At least thrice or more
by darkness173
Summary: Sequel to "At least twice". Ludwig and Feliciano are reunited, but they are still kept prisoners in the concentration camp. When will liberation finally come? Ludwig x Feliciano
1. Chapter 1

**Helloo~ **

**Wow, guys! I know - it's always the same, but I just have to say it: Thank you so much for reading both "At least once" and "At least twice"! I was seriously surprised at the positive feedback I received; every single one of your reviews brightened my day! Some of them really flattered me.**

**As you can see, I wrote a sequel, but I'm a little insecure while uploading it. I'm still not really sure if I like it... =S I tried to work a little bit more on the plot and make it less of a PWP. And as you can see... it's not even complete yet, but it was turning a little bit too long so I uploaded the first part of it. It's not nearly as sad as the last part. =)**

**Again, rated M for some violence and very graphic sex.**

**I own nothing.**

**This is not WW2****: Many things are derived from WW2 and the nazi concentrations camps of those times, but they are still very elaborated and absolutely not to be taken as WW2.**

**I apologize for all the mistakes... if you see any that repeat themselves over and over again, please tell me concretely.**

* * *

><p><strong>At least thrice – or more<strong>

[Ludwig x Feliciano]

"Vee~ he's soo~ handsome! He's really, really tall, muscular, has beautiful blue eyes and beautiful blond hair. He used to slick it back when the war had just started, but I actually like it better when he keeps it natural. It makes him look so wild and…" at this Feliciano sighed and intertwined his fingers, bringing his hands up to his chest like the little love fool he was. The other Italian, who was lying right next to him with one arm folded under his head as a pillow-replacement, rolled his eyes mockingly.

"Oh god – German through and through …" he muttered.

"Yes! … you should hear when he talks – so cute! He has that accent which gives him that special charm that only German people have -"

"I HATE Germans!" Lovino harshly cut him off, making the auburn-brunette wince in surprise. "It's their entire fault if Italy has been involved in this fucking war! I still can't believe we sided up with them – I mean – SERIOUSLY!"

"… Lovii~ don't talk like that! Germany is doing really much to protect Italy!" he tried to defend his beloved's nationality.

"Then why the hell are we still kept prisoners in this shit place, can you explain it to me?"

There, Feliciano actually stayed quiet for some seconds. Why indeed? Why would nobody come for them? Why? They knew about the concentration camps, right? Why wouldn't they come and save them all, then?

"… They will come… someday." he murmured softly, feeling his eyes starting to well up with tears. He inconspicuously rubbed them dry and sniffled, then came back to their initial conversation topic.

"More important: what is _yours_ like?"

"He's a damn bastard – that's what he's like! I've told him a thousand times that helping out fugitives and deserters was going to be the end for him!" the southern Italian growled angrily. "Such an idiot! He should have just stayed in Spain and minded his own business - nothing would have happened to him!"

"But you were one of those fugitives, too, right? He sounds like such a heroo~!"

"He's an idiot."

"How does he look like?" Feliciano asked enthusiastically, shifting a little bit closer to the other prisoner. Lovino thought about it for a moment, then started describing:

"Well, he's taller than me, but not that much... He's kind of skinny, but his body's well-toned all the same. He has a light tan, has those stupid shiny, green eyes I don't like at all and this stupid brown hair I don't like at all either! … HE IS NOTHING SPECIAL AND I DON'T MISS HIM AT ALL! …"

Feliciano gasped as the chocolate-brunette suddenly broke out in tears. He had hoped that talking about their beloved ones would help lift the mood a little, since they knew they were both alive and doing fine, just kept confined in the area of the camp for prominent prisoners. But it looked like he wasn't the only one missing Ludwig dearly.

"V-ve… L-Lovi…" he whispered and shifted even closer to the sobbing young man. He gently placed a hand onto his head and Lovino flinched, but didn't back away. He kept his face hidden behind his arms and cried bitterly, while Feliciano stroked his hair soothingly.

"D-don't be sad, Lovi. Isn't the most important thing that he's still alive?" he asked softly, holding his own tears back.

"I kn-know! But I just m-miss him so m-much!" the southern Italian replied in between sobs. "… Damn, w-would be t-too embarrassing if h-he saw me right n-now…" he then added and Feliciano couldn't help but giggle.

"You're so silly, Lovi!" he exclaimed and kissed his brow affectionately.

"Sh-shut up!" was the angered response, but the chocolate-brunette had already started calming down and he was leaning in, seeking more of that comforting touch.

"I'm pretty sure we will all be out of here soon. And then, I will be back with my Ludwig and you will be back with your Antonio. And you know what? We will go on a double date!"

"N-no way…!"

"Oh yes! Vee~ it would be too fun! We could go to a restau-"

"TIME TO SLEEP – SHUT THE HELL UP YOU ALL!" a voice in English startled him and interrupted his fantasizing chatter. The few prisoners around them that had been talking as well, stopped immediately and arranged for the night. The two of them did too.

"Good night, Lovi! Don't be sad." he whispered, kissing the other Italian's cheek. Lovino grumbled complainingly and vehemently tugged the sheet up to his chin. He fell asleep rather quickly and Feliciano was left with his own not too pleasant thoughts.

Half a year. They had been staying there for half a year, by then. And despite everything, Feliciano was finally doing fine. The bruises had decreased to a minimum, as he had started following obediently every one of the guards' orders. His cheeks had slightly rounded again and they wore a reassuring pinkish shade on them. He _was_ doing fine, considering his circumstances.

The only thing out of order was the hollow-like feeling there, where his heart should have been. He missed Ludwig much, much more than he dared to let Lovino know. The slightly older youth had been brought to the camp some months ago and Feliciano had befriended him almost immediately after having heard of the similarity of their situation. Both Italians. Both homosexuals. Both their beloved ones kept inside a cell and out of their reach.

He wanted to be strong for his new friend. And for Ludwig… and also for himself. And he had indeed managed to return to his typical optimistic self. But sometimes optimism just wasn't enough and the stinging pain returned all at once, stronger than ever. Half a year… Did Ludwig even still think about him? Had he forgotten him? Was he doing fine? Was he cooperating? Questions over questions, and not a single one he could have an answer to. They had told him that he was still alive, but what if they had lied? No… no. They hadn't lied. _That guard_, at least, would not lie to him. They were… kind of friends after all, weren't they?

Even if he had started eating again – sleeping remained a difficult task, and one he couldn't do anything to improve in. That's why, that night as well, Feliciano barely managed to close an eye, turning and returning in his bunk.

* * *

><p>The next day started as always at four o'clock in the morning. They washed themselves, had breakfast, cleansed their section of the barrack and then went outside for the morning roll call. Once everything was done, it was already six o'clock and they were assigned different tasks for the day. Feliciano had to work on the plantation and even though it was a rather exhausting job, he didn't complain.<p>

The _job_ itself wasn't really that bad. The exhausting part were the _guards_ who constantly kept picking on him. They were obviously bored to death. Feliciano had been hoeing the ground, when a small group of French and English guards approached him, chuckling among themselves.

"This one is the little fag." one of the French ones said, pointing at him. The Italian hadn't understood what he had said, but he stopped working all the same, let the hoe fall to the ground and carefully took a step backwards.

"V-ve, m-may I help you, sirs?" he asked timorously, clutching the hem of his prisoner uniform shirt to hide that his hands were trembling.

"Does he only talk Italian?"

"Want to go down on me, queer?" another one asked in English, laughing loudly.

"What the fuck, are you a fag yourself to ask him something like that?"

"I was joking, man!"

More laughter. Feliciano watched as they started to shove each other playfully, hoping that they were just messing around and would leave him alone soon. But no such luck.

"Hey, Italian!" one of the guards called for him with French accent, gesturing for him to come closer. The poor brunette swallowed nervously and reluctantly approached the men, never raising his eyes. The guard didn't even have the time to say what he wanted to say, as one of the other Frenchman pushed Feliciano hard enough to make him fall into a mud hole. They busted into laughter again.

"Goddamn, Pierre, you're such a bloody asshole!"

The Italian tried to wipe away the dirt from his face, but he just managed to smudge it also over the parts of it that had been spared. He sniffled lightly, feeling his eyes starting to burn and his throat closing up. He was on the verge of tears. One would think that after being permanently treated that way you would end up getting used to it. Well, you _never_ get used to it. He shifted in the mud, and struggled to stand up, as the now soaked clothes clung to his thin frame and dragged him down like plumb.

"What the fuck are you guys doing? Get the hell back to work, you fucking idiots! I'm the one guarding this part of the field!" a familiar voice shouted in French.

"Aw~ don't be a party killer, Francis!"

Feliciano kept his gaze lowered as the first tears trickled down his muddied cheeks. He listened to the guards having an argument, but after a while they eventually left.

"Are you alright?" the nice French guard asked him in Italian. The brunette nodded weakly and shifted uncomfortably. He wished he could change into his clean replacement uniform, but he knew that he'd have to work in those clothes for the rest of the day. And maybe he'd even get scolded for making them dirty…

"They are all idiots. Don't listen to them." the Frenchman continued, pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket's pocket and wiped the Italian's face with it. Once he was done, he lowered his hand to find the brunette smiling cutely at him.

"Vee~ thank you!" he chirped happily and made the guard blush in the process.

"Aah~ well, that's obvious, isn't it? It is _moi_, who has the rights over this part of the camp after all. Don't worry about them bothering you again, mon petit." the Frenchman said, grinning a little. Even though the nice Frenchman always had an eye on him – it still hadn't stopped the other guards from molesting the Italian every day. But at least it had kept them from seriously… hurting him. So Feliciano smiled politely. The smile faltered quickly, when he remembered what he had wanted to ask the man.

"S-sir?" he asked. "Sir, is Ludwig alright?"

The guard became serious as well and he cleared his throat awkwardly.

"He is fine." he answered, after a moment of hesitation. The Italian didn't notice and just smiled again, this time wider.

"Veee~ I'm glad! What about Antonio, the hero Spaniard?"

"The what?"

"You know the Spaniard, who saved so many fugitives~!"

"Err… yeah, doing fine, too."

And this was everything Feliciano needed to know, to be happy.

* * *

><p>Ludwig had tried to stay impassible – he really had. But after the twenty-first blow he had completely lost it.<p>

He shouldn't have done it; he knew that very well also without the guards repeating it to him over and over again like he was a little bad-mannered kid. But he had _wanted_ to do it. And now, his back was in shreds. So was his behind and so was the backside of his thighs. _In shreds_. Or at least it felt like it. When the next blow came, he howled loudly in pain, buckling against the whipping bench he was bent over. It was the only way to express his pain besides clenching his fists until they shook hard enough to make even the wooden trestle under him rattle. His arms and legs had been tied up, his clothes ripped off his body to expose his already tender skin. Each blow hit hard and caused the German to yell at the top of his lungs. When he wasn't yelling, he was releasing raspy pants and grunts through clenched teeth, his eyes tightly squeezed shut. The number "thirty" had never sounded so appealing to him like it did in that moment. _Thirty_. Only five left.

He howled loudly again, as the twenty-sixth blow hit him particularly hard in the sensitive back of his thigh.

"TWENTY-SIX!" he croaked out as loudly as he could.

The blows continued. And when the last one approached, he didn't even bother screaming in pain anymore.

"TWENTY-NINE!" he continued to count like he was forced to. One last blow. Only one…

"THIRTY!"

And never before, had he felt so good after having been punished. It was _over_. Thirty. Thirty blows to his back, behind and his thighs with a too well-known cane. His punishment had never been as harsh as this time. Five to ten blows had usually been enough to satisfy the enemies' sadism.

He sniffled and swallowed back his tears, trying to calm himself down. _It's over_, he repeated in his mind. _The torture is over_. His abused body throbbed. In some places, he could clearly feel the blood flow down. In others, he had just gone numb and couldn't feel anything at all. His arms and legs were finally unbound and he was allowed to stand up. But even though he was pushing against the whipping bench with his hands, he still kept lying. His arms were failing him.

The man with the cane helped him to stand up. He was neither particularly rough nor sympathetic. He acted like a man that had just done his job – nothing more, nothing less. Ludwig's clothes were shoved into his arms and he tried not to fall backwards as the slightest touch caused him to sway dangerously. Despite his misery, he pulled on his prisoner uniform, whimpering softly as the rather scratchy fabric stuck to his fresh wounds. It didn't matter, because now he could go back to his cell. He had never looked forward so much to being back inside that freaking two meters to two hole.

"You know why this had to be done, da?" the fair-haired man asked him in strangely accented English. Ludwig kept his gaze attached to the ground and nodded weakly. He knew why. And yet – he wouldn't change what he had done, could he go back in time.

"Very well. I will inform the superiors then."

The man made a little gesture with his head and two French guards approached Ludwig to lead him back to his cell. The German was glad, as he could barely walk on his own. Once he was standing inside the by now familiar small room, he trudged to the bed and let himself fall face down onto it. He flinched because of the sharp pain that shot through his body and then stayed immobile.

The punishment had been harsh, but not nearly as harsh as what the fucking guard had told him in the morning.

_Your little friend sure sucks it right! And you should have seen how much he was enjoying doing it, man! Did he suck you off as well or is that a privilege only the guards get?_

He could hear it inside his head over and over again. God, how much he had savored smashing his fist into that bastard's face. He hoped he had been just lying to piss him off. Because if he found out he was actually saying the truth – he wouldn't mind receiving fifty blows. He would fucking smash his head in. He knew he was not only risking his back, bottom and thighs behaving the way he did. He was risking his throat as well. But he couldn't hear that shit anymore. He recalled one last time how incredibly satisfying it had felt when his fist had collided with the bastard's nose, the incredibly appealing sound of his nose breaking. If only he had been able to kill him. He nibbled on his under lip at that thought. Yeah – if only he would have had the time to choke him until he had not one bit breath left in his fucking lungs. He would have enjoyed it so much… he was getting all giddy with pleasure just at the thought of it. He chuckled lowly, then froze.

_My god, I'm turning into a monster… Feliciano wouldn't want this… _he thought, horrified of himself.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, he had a meeting with the same English officer as always. He hated him deeply and it was also deeply reciprocated. When they chained him up against the wall, he leaned heavily against his side, as his back was way too tender to put the slightest of weight on it. The Englishman was sitting at the desk, lazily swirling a spoon inside his cup of tea.<p>

"Aah~ my favorite German in the world." he mumbled sarcastically, without raising his gaze. Ludwig just glared at the wall in front of himself. His wounds were still throbbing and had crusted up with the red-white striped uniform sticking to them. Every little movement ripped them open again and made him flinch in pain.

"I've heard we had some troubles today. Mind to explain to me what the bloody hell you were thinking when you punched that guard?"

"I hope he dies." the German whispered and chuckled bitterly.

"What did you say?" the officer asked menacingly. He had finally looked up and was now eying the chained prisoner with severity.

"He was begging for it."

The officer swiftly stood up and slowly approached Ludwig. Once he was directly in front of him, he grabbed his chin harshly and forced him to look into his eyes.

"You do realize in what kind of position you're in, right?" he asked, snarling lightly. The German wisely chose to hold his tongue and just nodded.

"Good boy." the Englishman muttered, releasing his face vehemently, almost slapping him in the process.

"About the German officer, who gave you those documents. Guess what? We found out who he is also without your help."

Ludwig's eyes widened slightly.

"_Gilbert Beilschmidt."_

"This is not the name of the man, who gave me the envelopes." he lied quickly.

"It is not?"

They stayed in silence for a long time. The Englishman unhurriedly strolled back to his desk and took a seat, flinging his legs to rest on the wooden surface.

"Would it be the name of the man, who gave you the documents if I told you that you would be released of the cell and sent out to work on the camp, my German friend?" he asked, a smug smirk forming on his face.

Ludwig gasped loudly. Really? Was it that easy? No… no… he was playing with him. Wasn't he? … He would be able to be outside again – to see the sun for god's sake! To breathe fresh air… to work. To move!

And most of all… he would have a chance to see Feliciano again.

"Is this a sincere proposition?" he inquired with a hint of hope in his voice.

"Oh~ as sincere as my love for the Queen, my dear boy." the officer answered theatrically. "We don't need you around here anyway. You've done nothing but been a pain in the ass."

Gilbert had betrayed him by giving him those documents. He had told him the envelopes would cause him no trouble, after all. He deserved to be betrayed as well, didn't he? No… he didn't. He couldn't do this to the man… He still cared about him too much. … It hurt to think about betraying him, but the opportunity of being freed was way too tempting to let it slip. … _Sorry, Gil…_ he thought, before answering:

"He was indeed the one giving me the envelopes. Once in Paris, I would have given them to the leader of the Italian mafia which is hiding somewhere there. I don't know anything else. I don't even know where they are hiding, I swear… they would have been the ones tracking me down. Please… please let me work on the camp… please…"

He was disgusted with himself. But it didn't matter. Because soon, he would see Feliciano again.

* * *

><p>Days passed, and he was indeed moved from his cell to one of the barracks of the camp. The sun stung in his eyes, as he was dragged down there. The fresh air stung in his lungs. Walking such a distance pained his legs. Everything hurt, and yet – he had never felt happier in his life. He was out of that shit hole. He was free… Well, partially at least.<p>

Now he just had to find Feliciano… then he could hold him in his arms again… Kiss him, tell him how much he had missed him and how much he still loved him even after all those months. Not one day had passed without imagining having the Italian back at his side.

He wondered briefly if Feliciano had ever thought about him during those months. How would he react when he saw him? Would he be as happy as he pictured him inside his head? Would he have gained some weight… become even thinner? Have fewer bruises on his face… more of them? Smile? Cry?

… Would he still love him?

He was put to work. He had to move bricks from one point of the camp to another. Kind of useless, but it was alright as a start. Bending down to pick the bricks up caused his crusted wounds to crack and rip open, but it didn't matter. He was way too happy to be outside to care about such things. This concentration camp was beautiful! There were actually some trees there! And a lot of people working around him. It was like heaven after the six months he had spent inside that dark cell alone. He didn't even mind when a guard shouted at him to stop grinning like a fucking idiot and work harder. He complied happily. His body hurt from the minimal effort of having to pick up bricks and walk around, but it was a good kind of pain. It was the kind that told you that you were starting to function like a normal human again. The kind that told you that you were rusted, but were going to be alright again soon.

Around lunch time, each prisoner received his meal in the "mensa" of the camp. He reasoned that this was probably his chance to find Feliciano, as they were all reunited in the same giant hall. He stormed through the prisoners like a maniac, his eyes darting over each person sitting around the tables in the room in the hope to find his little one.

And when his ears perceived one special voice – he froze.

"_Vee~ the cooks here must be English, because the food really sucks!_"

His heart started pounding almost painfully against his ribcage. Where? Where had that voice come from?

"FELICIANO!" he yelled, not caring that he was probably going to get in trouble with the guards if he kept this up.

* * *

><p>He heard someone call his name. When he turned around, he couldn't believe his eyes. A moment, he just stayed like that. His eyes wide apart, his mouth ajar. Maybe it was only wishful thinking, but the blonde a few meters away from himself looked terribly alike to Ludwig. Terribly. He was skinnier than the German he reminded, had bad-looking dark circles under his eyes, but other than that, they really were the same. He started to shake uncontrollably and his heart threatened to explode inside his chest. He scrambled into a standing position and spun around.<p>

"LUDWIG!" he screamed, a few tears he hadn't even been aware were there, trickling down his cheeks.

The blonde hastily looked in his direction and their eyes met. It was him. It really was. And he was glad that most of the prisoners were blocking their way, because otherwise he would have jumped at the German and kissed him right then, right there – in front of everybody, in front of all the guards. He sobbed loudly instead, because he didn't know that feeling too happy could_ hurt _that much and he could see that Ludwig was crying, too.

"LUDWIG!" he screamed again, and the German finally struggled to move on through the crowd. Feliciano did as well, and they met midway. Once they had made it, they stood in front of each other, trembling and panting.

"Ludwig…!" the Italian blubbered out and went to hug the other young man, but the blonde quickly shook his head.

"The guards…" he whispered softly. And there wasn't any need to say anything else. The joyful and lovestruck expressions on their faces told enough without them speaking. Feliciano laughed, feeling silly and rubbed his face dry. Ludwig discretely grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. He wouldn't let go of it ever again.

"I'm here now."

* * *

><p>"They placed me into barrack number thirteen."<p>

"I'm in barrack number seven... you need to change to mine!"

"Is it possible to change?"

"I dunno, but we have to try… I know somebody, who might wanna help us!"

The Italian squeezed Ludwig's hand tighter and gently stroked the back of it with his thumb. It was evening. They had had to separate to go back to work after lunch and time had passed agonizingly slow. But it had eventually turned dark outside. The evening roll call had been done, dinner had been served. And then, it had been the time of the day, during which the guards didn't control _too much_ what they were doing. Their free time.

The time they could be together. So they had sneaked out of their barracks and had hidden behind a row of trees and bushes, in the hope that the guards wouldn't find them. In one hour they would have to be back in their dormitory, but until then, they could be together. _Together_…

"Ludwig…" Feliciano whimpered softly and tugged at their intertwined hands to pull the German closer. The blonde, who was sitting right next to him, leaned over him and caressed his face tenderly.

"Ludwig, I've missed you so much… Every day… I've thought about you every day… I was so afraid that I would never see you again…" the Italian whispered, slowly closing the gap between them. He could feel the German's breath on his lips, so he licked them in anticipation.

"I have thought about you every day, too… and also every night. You were always on my mind." Ludwig answered in a low voice. He let his thumb glide over Feliciano's lower lip and his hand trembled lightly at how soft it was. The Italian looked so much better than the last time he had seen him. He couldn't tear his eyes off him, wanting to burn inside his brain every single bit of him. He leaned in and replaced the thumb with his lips. And kissing him felt like… like… like bliss. Their lips moved against each other, gently, almost timidly.

"At least thrice…" the German murmured and grinned weakly when their lips separated.

"At least thrice…!" Feliciano confirmed, reciprocating the grin more widely. But he turned serious again after a second. "B-but what if the guards…? I'm scared!"

"It needs to be quick and silent." were the instructions.

"A-alright…"

Ludwig kissed him again, with a little more pressure this time. It felt so good to kiss his little one again after all those terrible months spent apart. Altogether, it felt like a beautiful, surreal dream. They were together. They were both more or less fine. They were kissing…

"Mmmh…" Feliciano hummed, his hand crawling up Ludwig's torso to hook up behind his neck and pull him closer. He nibbled gently at the German's lower lip, who replied by shoving his tongue roughly into his mouth. The brunette didn't hesitate to answer the kiss just as hungrily. They were both trembling because of the built up longing they had been keeping inside themselves for the past half year. Their tongues stroked forcefully against each other, while their teeth nibbled and tugged gently at their respective lower lips. If they could have, they would have literally devoured each other. One of the German's hands slipped underneath Feliciano's shirt and caressed his soft skin tentatively. He started massaging his lower back and side, hoping that the Italian wouldn't want to do the same to him. He didn't know what he would tell him if he found out about… the wounds.

But Feliciano just whimpered softly and melted under his touch like butter would under the sun. Ludwig used his momentary distraction to pull him onto his lap, the way he was straddling his hips - his second hand soon following the first one underneath the brunette's shirt. Feliciano's hands found a place on the German's shoulders, where his fingers curled to get a firm hold of him.

"Ludwig… the guards…" he breathed, as their lips pulled apart for a second, before re-clashing against each other with even more fervor. The blonde caressed the quivering upper body for another while, playing with the hardened nubs, pinching them and brushing them teasingly with his fingertips. He then gently let his hands slip downwards and firmly grabbed Feliciano's hips, pushing him down, while he himself buckled, to grind their crotches together.

"Nhh.. ahh..." Feliciano moaned lightly into his mouth, interrupting the kiss and reaching up to bury his fingers between freshly cleaned, pale locks.

"I've missed you so much…" he repeated what he had already said before, whimpering softly as the German started to massage the bulge inside his red-white striped trousers. "… I've _needed_ you so much…"

Ludwig stuffed his face into the crook of his neck and kissed the tender skin, licked it, sucked it and finally sank his teeth into it. Feliciano whined in painful pleasure and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. The German's fingers hooked up underneath the elastic around the brunette's waist and pulled his pants down until they had reached the middle of thighs. He then lightly pushed off the ground and did the same to himself.

"This is going to hurt very much without preparation." he whispered, his voice thick with arousal.

"I don't really care right now." Feliciano replied, reaching down to wrap his fingers around the blonde's fully erect member and pump it with slow, stimulating strokes.

"You will care tomorrow when you stand up and try to walk." Ludwig chuckled lowly. Feliciano giggled as well and leaned in to peck the German's lips.

"I don't care. I'm just happy to have you back…"

Ludwig smiled fondly and caressed the Italian's buttocks with slow, enticing movements. He made sure to brush his entrance with his fingertips a few times, but never touched it directly. Feliciano started squirming on his lap, pushing his throbbing member against his abdomen to get at least a little bit of stimulation. The Italian's display of need, made the blonde become a little inpatient himself, so he spat into his hand before bringing it back to the other's bottom. He let his fingers circle around his entrance a few times, moistening it for good, before pushing two fingers in at the same time.

"AH! – ahh…" Feliciano gasped loudly, arching his back to get them deeper into himself. It stung a little, but strangely the pain just made him feel even more aroused. The two fingers found his prostrate immediately and started stimulating it right away, rubbing it, caressing it with circling motions and thrusting against it while moving gently back and forth.

"The guards…" Feliciano moaned out softly, leaning down to capture the blonde's lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. Reluctant to interrupt it, Ludwig pulled out his fingers of the brunette's hot hole and just smeared his precum over his member, hoping that the penetration wouldn't be _all too_ painful. He firmly grabbed Feliciano's hips and positioned him onto himself, before slowly pushing against his entrance. It offered quite a bit of resistance, but when the Italian sat down onto it, his member slipped through the tight ring rather quickly and all at once.

"NNH! ... Hnngh.. Ahh… hh.." Feliciano groaned, interrupting their kiss. "It hurts…!"

"I told you.. it would.. hurt..." Ludwig answered in between raspy pants. "We need to be more silent… it's dangerous…" he then added, swallowing nervously.

"Ludwig… I'm glad you're back… I love you…" Feliciano breathed softly, hugging the German tightly and hiding his flushed face in his hair.

"I… love you … too…" the blonde barely managed to croak out, buckling his hips to get a taste of the coming session. Feliciano was so tight… and hot… and he still couldn't believe this was real life and not one of his pitiful dreams. He tenderly closed his arms around the brunette's waist and pushed up against him again, encouraging him to move, to do something.

Feliciano steadied himself by holding Ludwig's shoulders tightly and tentatively lifted himself up of the German's lap, feeling his thick member slip slightly out of him. He looked down because he kind of liked this position and stared at their unified bodies, before letting himself fall down again.

"Ohh... nnh… Ludwig…" he whimpered, as the German's manhood shoved itself deep into him again, hitting his prostrate in the process.

"Quiet… the guards…" Ludwig panted, tightening his grip around Feliciano's waist, lifting him up himself and re-pushing him down while simultaneously thrusting into him.

"L-Ludwig, I'm bleeding…" the Italian whispered, as he noticed the blood running down the inner side of his thigh. He didn't sound concerned, much to the German's surprise. More like… like it excited him. And that alone was reason enough to get even more aroused himself.

"I will… kiss it better… afterwards…" Ludwig spoke softly, meeting the brunette's movements every time he lowered himself onto him, impaling himself. At this Feliciano actually giggled a little, but the giggle was quick to turn into a throaty moan.

"Feli…ciano… the guards!" the blonde hissed warningly. The Italian bit his lower lip and continued to ride him, increasingly picking up speed. The harsh movements irritated and hurt the still tender flesh on Ludwig's backside and lower back, but strangely, in that situation, it didn't bother him too much. It felt kind of good. His arms released the brunette's waist and he took a hold of his buttocks instead, kneading them gently - trying to lead Feliciano's movements and make him slow down a little.

"I'm going to come…" he explained, as the Italian questioningly looked at him through half-lidded eyes. Feliciano nodded weakly and grasped his neglected member, starting to stroke himself at the rhythm of his riding. With both kind of pleasures combined, he felt himself approach climax quickly as well, and let Ludwig know it by whimpering in his ear more desperately. The blonde met his movements with more force and they came almost at the same time, their moans catching in their throats, as they couldn't be too loud. Feliciano slackened against the German and breathed heavily against his chest, until he felt he had enough force to push up one last time, the now softened member slipping out of him, while warm semen trickled down the inner side of his thighs to mix up with the blood there. Ludwig was still panting as well and once he could breathe normally again, he leaned in to tenderly kiss the Italian's lips.

"I'm glad... to have you back… Ludwig…" Feliciano whispered softly, caressing the other prisoner's face with his clean hand. The German smiled weakly and pulled him closer, squeezing him tightly against himself.

"Vee~ I'm so happy!"

"I'm happy too. Incredibly so." Ludwig mumbled against his neck, kissing it gently.

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

**Thanks for reading! Any suggestions on how it could continue? =) I already have a vague idea of how to continue, but I love to hear other people's opinions! x) Please let me know how you found this part, I had kind of trouble writing it...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hi guys! ^^**

**I surprised myself at how quickly I managed to write this part. Again, thanks for reading, faving and reviewing! =)) It makes me so childishly happy… haha! I'm glad most of you liked the last chapter, as I was really worried about its quality...**

**I already apologize to all the Spamano fans… xD You will get Spamano next time, I promise! This chapter contains another surprise though… *wink wink***

**Oh - and I wanted to say thanks to Fuminori for the incredible reviews you have left behind on each "At least…"- fic. (I would have written you a private message, but you're anonym and I really wanted to say this…) I have thought very much about the things you have written to me. ^^ And I tried to satisfy your wish for a little bit more of Peter… haha! But it's only little… maybe next time you'll get more!**

**So guys, I hope you enjoy…! (And again, tell me if you see mistakes that repeat themselves over and over again please…)**

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><p><em>"I'm glad... to have you back… Ludwig…" Feliciano whispered softly, caressing the other prisoner's face with his clean hand. The German smiled weakly and pulled him closer, squeezing him tightly against himself.<em>

_"Vee~ I'm so happy!"_

_"I'm happy too. Incredibly so." Ludwig mumbled against his neck, kissing it gently._

But they didn't have much time to enjoy their special moment, as a faint noise in the distance caught their attention. And as soon as they realized _what_ kind of noise it was, they froze in pure fear. Ludwig hastily pushed Feliciano off himself and the both of them struggled to get rid of any kind of evidence, before adjusting their prisoner uniforms and hair as well as they could. They sat close, immobile… trying to be as silent as possible. Even breathing seemed to be too loud in their situation… as their possible death came closer… and closer… and closer…

But gladly, the steps didn't hesitate a second while passing in front of the bushes they had been hiding behind. And just like they had come… they went and became another time just a faint noise in the distance which could do them no harm. The two prisoners breathed a sigh of relief and Ludwig released the small hand he had been unintentionally crushing with his own.

"This is way too dangerous…" he spoke softly, his voice trembling lightly. The brunette, whose heart was still pounding way too fast in his throat to answer vocally, just nodded in agreement and leaned heavily against the German's side, seeking some kind of comfort after having been scared to death. Ludwig wrapped an arm around the shaking body and pulled it against his chest, cradling it in a comforting manner.

"V-ve… I just wish we c-could be together without always having to be afraid t-that something bad m-might happen to us…" the Italian managed to stutter after a while.

"Maybe… someday. If we get out of this place alive." the blonde said, gently placing his chin onto the other prisoner's head. They remained in that position for a short while, with Ludwig rubbing soothing circles into Feliciano's back, which seemed to considerably calm the Italian down. "We really need to go back now. Or we will get caught for sure…" he reluctantly added.

Feliciano nodded again. He closed his eyes and deeply inhaled Ludwig's scent for one last time, before slowly pulling back from the embrace. He would have preferred to stay with his beloved one for the rest of the night, but he knew that they couldn't afford to get into trouble, especially with everything looking like it was turning out for the better. He felt so much more carefree now that the German was back… and would he have died right then… he would have died a happy man. Even if the thought of living was much more appealing, of course…

"Ludwig, can we meet again tomorrow? I want to know everything that happened to you during those months… and I need to tell you everything as well!" he begged nervously.

"Of course we can see each other again. Are you crazy? I _need_ to see you again." the blonde replied, grabbing and gently squeezing the Italian's hand to confirm what he had said. "At lunch time. At lunch time we can see each other again. And at dinner time. And… and in the evening. But we cannot do _this_ again. It is way too dangerous."

"I-I know." Feliciano agreed, stuttering. He lowered his gaze and mustered a brownish-red stain on the inner side of his trouser leg, there, where the blood had been tickling down before. They had been rather rough, he realized.

Life in a concentration camp was rough enough without making _those_ kind of things rough, as well, right? Maybe being treated like an animal every day actually _turned_ you into an animal after a while? Or maybe it really had only been the sickly longing and the incredible built up tension inside them?

He didn't really care what it had been… he just knew that it made him kind of sad. He wanted to be able to be with Ludwig without having to be "quick and silent". They had been together that way for three times, and three times, they had been tense and afraid that something might happen to them. He just wanted… for the war to end and to go back home in Venetia. And to bring Ludwig along… and then, they would live together in a little house near the sea and he would cook different kinds of pasta for them every noon. And sausage or meat in the evening because it would make the German happy. And they could go to the beach and take baths… and once back home, he would massage Ludwig's reddened back using the best smelling after-sun-product… he would make him feel relaxed and comfortable… and there would be no hurry in the world. They would share a room… a bed. They would make love in a clean, soft bed. And there would be no reason to be worried… they wouldn't need to be quick and neither would they need to be silent. They could love each other for hours if they wanted. He could let Ludwig hear how much he liked his touches and kisses…

And they could _play_ rough if they felt like it… but they wouldn't need to be rough for real.

"Feliciano, you need to go. It is better if we go back separately. Be seen together would do no good right now." Ludwig's voice promptly interrupted his dreaming.

"A-alright… n-night, Ludwig…" he reluctantly pecked the blonde goodbye and went to stand up. A soft cry escaped his lips as a sharp pain shot up his spine and he would have fallen back onto the ground, had the German not jumped to his feet to support him. The burning and throbbing sensation inside his behind had gone unnoticed while the adrenaline from both the sex and the start he had gotten because of that guard almost finding out about them had been in his system. But now that he was calmer and tried to actually move, he could feel it clearly… and it wasn't pleasant in the least…

"I told you it would hurt… we really messed up this time. We shouldn't have been that reckless! Do you think you can walk alone?"

"Y-yeah… don't worry. I am really happy, you know. Even if it hurts now… I am really happy." the brunette whispered and smiled fondly. Ludwig's hard expression softened and he leaned in to kiss the Italian tenderly on the lips.

"Go now. Immediately." he ordered sternly and Feliciano complied. He walked back to his barrack and tried not to limp too badly. If somebody would ask him about it, he would just answer that he had hurt his ankle during work, he decided. But luck seemed to be on his side, as he reached his dormitory without further problems. He made it safely to his bunk section and was greeted by a… rather furious Lovino.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?" the southern Italian screamed with tears in his green eyes. "I WAITED FOR YOU THE WHOLE DAY AFTER YOU SUDDENLY DISAPPEARED DURING LUNCH TIME AND YOU JUST DIDN'T SHOW UP!"

The auburn-brunette's breath caught in his throat as he realized that he had completely forgotten about his friend while staying with Ludwig. He felt immediately guilty for making the other Italian unnecessarily worry. Pushed by his clingy and affectionate nature, he flung himself at Lovino and hugged him tightly.

"Vee~ Lovi, I'm sorry, please don't be angry at me!" he apologized, then added: "I was with Ludwig… Oh, Lovi…! I'm so incredibly happy that he's back…!"

The southern Italian forcefully pushed him away and turned around, a sob he had tried to suppress escaping his lips all the same. Feliciano stood mortified behind him and his amber eyes welled up with tears as well. He hadn't wanted to hurt Lovino's feeling with his behavior… he just… he had just been so happy to have Ludwig back that he hadn't realized he was completely forgetting about everything else around him.

"D-don't do that… don't leave me alone n-now that he's back." he heard the chocolate-brunette stutter and felt a short, but sharp pain in his heart.

"L-Lovi, I'm sorry! I won't leave you alone, I promise!" the smaller Italian hastily replied, grasping Lovino's hand. "I'm… I'm sorry… it must be really… really hard for you to see me… with Ludwig, while… "

He didn't finish the sentence. It was obvious to the both of them what he meant. Lovino slowly turned around, but kept his gaze lowered. It was alright, though. Feliciano knew by the gentle squeeze his hand got that his friend had already forgiven him. And how could you _not_ forgive easily under their circumstances? There was no time and no room for grudges… Either you forgot or you stayed alone and suffered…

"I'll introduce the both of you to each other…" he suggested carefully."And don't you think… that this is a very good sign, Lovi? If they let Ludwig go, who was discovered carrying around very important documents about the French state… don't you think they'll let Antonio go, as well?"

Lovino awkwardly retrieved his hand and rubbed his puffy, bloodshot eyes dry.

"M-maybe…" he muttered with a hint of hope in his voice.

"What the hell are you two doing? Get immediately to bed!" the barrack supervisor yelled at them, making them flinch startled. They did as ordered and climbed into their bunks, Feliciano grimacing from the sharp pain inside his bottom. He was happy Lovino didn't notice… because it would have been very embarrassing if he found out. Once they were lying underneath the sheets, the auburn-brunette leaned closer to the other Italian to whisper with a little grin on his face:

"So, what do you think of Ludwig?"

"He's way too German-looking! A freaking macho-potato… I don't like him at all!" Lovino hissed softly in reply.

"Lovi~! He's not a macho-potato!"

"He's a kraut, dammit! I bet he eats only potatoes and sausages… German people can't value good pasta al dente… or a nice pizza just pulled out of the wooden oven."

"M-maybe, but this doesn't make him a bad person all the same! He's really sweet and tender… and he would do anything to protect me!"

"I hope you're saying the truth because I'm not going to forgive him if he hurts you! PAH, sausage-munchers…"

Feliciano smiled weakly at this. He shifted closer to the other Italian and hugged him affectionately. The chocolate-brunette grunted in disagreement and tried to push him away, but he eventually gave in and let himself be embraced.

"Vee~ I wish I had a big brother like Lovi!"

"D-don't say this kind of things! It's embarrassing!"

And at that very moment, it became also clear that Feliciano wouldn't ask the nice French guard if there was a possibility to be moved into another barrack… He knew that if Ludwig were to be moved into his, he wouldn't be able to stay away from him. It would probably also be a little dangerous anyway… He wished he could spend more time together with Ludwig now that the German was back… but he couldn't leave Lovino alone. Hadn't he once been just like him – desperate for somebody to lean on? He couldn't abandon him… he would find a way to be with the both of them. His heart fluttered happily at the thought that his beloved one was there… that he would see him again tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and the day after that...

That evening, he fell asleep incredibly quickly with a childish grin on his face. And he slept soundly through all the night.

* * *

><p>Ludwig didn't know why the southern Italian hated him so much; they didn't even know each other! They hadn't even spoken a word together, since it had been Feliciano to introduce them to each other. The glares he was shooting at him from across the table would have been rather intimidating though… hadn't he been almost as short and as scrawny as his Feliciano was.<p>

But if he had to be sincere, he didn't really care. He had Feliciano's hand in his own… and the both of them were lying on the smaller prisoner's lap. And it was… and it was like the most beautiful dream had come true. Even if they had to separate for a short instant every time a guard passed by their table… they would always find a way to each other again. And the Italian's skin was warm and soft… and everything he needed to know that this was indeed reality.

If only the war ended… if only they were freed. Everything would be perfect. They would go to Germany… live in a beautiful house near the woods, the way they could go for long walks every day. And they would have a dog, maybe two… and a cat, because Feliciano seemed to like cats very much. He could already imagine it; a warm, sunny day… and Feliciano lying in the grass… his shirt open and teasingly revealing a tad of smooth and tanned chest. And they wouldn't need to be afraid that somebody might see them while making love… because nobody would be there. It would be their own little piece of heaven on earth… and he could finally use lube and show the Italian that it didn't always have to hurt… he wouldn't have to limp ever again…

He had felt guilty that day, when he had seen the way Feliciano limped. He had obviously torn him slightly open while penetrating, for him to feel so much pain… and it was his entire fault for being so careless. Even if the brunette had been eager as well… he should have tried to keep his calm all the same. But the Italian looked so incredibly good… he was gorgeous. He still could barely tear his eyes off him, even while eating. Not to mention that after having been kept confined inside a cell alone with little human contact for such a long time, people tend to get frustrated. And even more so, when they are constantly tormented by different kind of assholes… who manage to bring the worst out of others. Ludwig had never felt the wish to kill somebody as often as he had in the last few months. He had had the wish to kill and the idea of doing it had been almost arousing. He was glad to be out of there and in the hands of a little angel, who unconsciously kept him safe in his own way.

With this new perspective that he could see Feliciano every day, he could live life very well, even if it happened to be in a concentration camp. He would be happy… as long as nothing happened to them. That's why they needed to be extra careful… and yet… could he have… he would have dragged the Italian out of the dining hall and made love to him in the next best corner…

When lunch was over, he went back to move bricks. He wondered how long they were going to keep him doing the same useless job, but his skin was kissed by the sun and caressed by a light breeze while he worked. It was a wonderful feeling... one he could get used to for sure.

And at dinner, he sat with his little one again, and even Lovino's glares seemed to have become less menacing… and just annoyed.

But the best part was the evening. They had left the dining hall much sooner than most of the others… but fortunately nobody had seemed to be suspicious. They sat behind a pile of rubble this time. And it was a little farer apart from the barracks than the bushes of the day before… but it was also safer. And Ludwig had to control himself really hard to avoid eating the Italian alive.

"The guards are mean… but there is one special one, who's always nice to me. And he keeps the mean ones from picking on me too much. He also told me how you were doing, on regular basis. That's why I've been fine, despite everything. And Lovino has been my friend ever since the first day he arrived! He has a boyfriend as well, you know… c-can I say boyfriend to describe what you are to me? O-or is it t-too weird? But as I was saying – he has a boyfriend! It's a Spaniard, you know, and he saved a lot of fugitives by hiding them away from the enemies. Vee~ I'm so happy to have you back! And if we are careful, we can be together every evening like this and talk for hours and… -"

Ludwig wasn't listening anymore. The Italian's gesturing hands had caught his attention and he imagined how it would be like to have them on his naked body once again. To have them clinging to his back… even if it was covered with scars and wounds… And his lips… they shone slightly in the moonlight. They were pinkish and invited him to kiss them… but he couldn't. Hadn't he just said the day before that it was way too dangerous to do _that_? And that little bit of shoulder the brunette's shirt revealed, since it was way too large for him... How would his skin taste now? Sweet? It looked sweet like strawberry milk… And the way his hair waved in the wind…

"Helloo~ earth to Ludwig!" Feliciano chanted, waving a hand in front of his face. The German couldn't help but blink a few times, having been torn out of his vivid fantasizing. He smiled tentatively and gently grabbed the Italian's wrist to kiss his knuckles.

"Ludwig… this is kinda mean. I was telling you about the weird food here and you just weren't listening!"

"Sorry… you were provoking me though." the German answered softly.

"What do you mean?" Feliciano asked seriously puzzled. And Ludwig leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. The brunette was slightly surprised, but after a few seconds, his eyes fluttered shut and he replied the kiss sheepishly. Ludwig's thumb caressed the inner side of the Italian's wrist and Feliciano's free hand slowly rose to rest on the blonde's upper arm. He clung to his prisoner uniform, almost as if he was afraid Ludwig could disappear at any moment.

"L-Ludwig… I thought… you said…" Feliciano stuttered softly after the German had pulled back from the kiss.

"We won't do anything." the blonde assured him, even though he really wished for the opposite. But the smaller prisoner was still hurt from the evening before… and it was too dangerous anyway.

"A-are you sure…? I m-mean… I could d-do something for you… if… if you want." the Italian proposed, flushing. That kind of confused Ludwig.

"I don't understand."

"I-I m-mean… you know… I could… with … my mouth…" and even though the last part of the sentence had been uttered barely above a whisper, Ludwig had heard it well. And suddenly, he could feel that rage again… and that wish to kill.

_Your little friend sure sucks it right! And you should have seen how much he was enjoying doing it, man! Did he suck you off as well or is that a privilege only the guards get?_

He harshly grasped Feliciano's shoulders and yanked him closer, making him softly cry out in shock.

"V-ve…?"

"Why are you proposing this?" the German asked coldly, his face stern.

"I-I just –" the brunette couldn't even end the sentence, as he was cut off.

"So they really did… I can't believe this…"

_I'm killing him… I'm killing them all… with these hands of mine… _And he was ready to stand up and really do it, but Feliciano held him back by his sleeve.

"Ludwig! Where are you going?" he asked panicking.

"I will not let them do this to you again. I promise… you won't have to do this ever again."

"I don't understand anything of what you're saying!"

And he seemed to be sincere. So the German slowly sat down again and looked at Feliciano with serious eyes.

"You… they… they didn't… make you go down on them?" he finally asked directly.

"Y-you mean the guards? No! Th-they joke about it all the time… but I never had… I just… I just asked because I wanted to make you feel good… it… I'm sorry…"

Ludwig's fury lessened more and more, until there was nothing left of it. He felt relief wash over him and let a shaky breath out.

"I'm sorry… I… didn't mean to give you a start." he apologized, cupping the Italian's cheek. "I was just… they used to tell me things like these while I was inside the cell… and I was really afraid they were hurting you…"

He stroked some loose hair strands behind Feliciano's ear and leaned in to kiss his temple. The brunette relaxed and encircled Ludwig's neck with one of his arms. He let his head rest on the German's shoulder and thought about what he had just heard. Just imagining it… it made him feel horrible. He was glad something like that never happened to him. But he didn't think the guards would ever _seriously_ want something like that from him… they despised him because he was a homosexual after all, right? But for Ludwig… for Ludwig he wouldn't mind doing it at all…

"I-I would very much like it, b-by the way." a low voice interrupted his musing. It took the Italian a second to understand what was meant, and once he got it, he felt himself turning scarlet.

"R-really?" he asked childishly, feeling kind of nervous and excited at the same time. He had never done this before… what if he did it wrong? But if he managed to make Ludwig feel as good as he himself had felt the time the German had done it to him… he really wanted to make him feel like that.

He pulled back and eyed Ludwig's crotch sheepishly. He was losing the confidence he had felt for a short moment quickly. Now he almost regretted having offered it… what if he really wasn't good at it? What if it tasted weird?

"… It's alright. You don't have to… if you don't want to." the German whispered, caressing his hair calmingly.

"I w-want to!" Feliciano quickly replied, pushing the other prisoner's long legs apart. He took place between them and slowly reached out to pull the blonde's still rather soft member out of his trousers. Ludwig wriggled to get the red-white striped piece of clothing to rest slightly lower on his hips and then leaned against the block of stone behind him. The Italian's amber eyes lingered first on the revealed manhood and then rose to meet timidly Ludwig's blue ones. The German's expression was kind and patient. It encouraged him, somehow. He started massaging him in a stimulating manner and was mesmerized by the way the blonde's lips opened slightly to breathe through his mouth, his eyes becoming half-lidded. In no time, the shaft in his hand had hardened and Feliciano enclosed his fingers firmly around it to pump it slowly. It felt kind of good to be the active one for once. He reached down towards his own crotch and noticed that he hadn't been able to stay impassible like he had wanted to. But he wouldn't do anything about it. He wanted to please Ludwig and Ludwig only that evening. He carefully lay down and continued to stroke the German's manhood also when he started to spread hot open-mouthed kisses all over his exposed lower abdomen and hipbones. He could hear him pant now and it made him feel like he was doing this right. He nipped gently at one protuberant hipbone and then pulled slightly back to see how the German was reacting to it. He really seemed to like it. He was looking down at him with a befuddled expression on his face and the hand which had been resting on the Italian's head had become slightly heavier. Feliciano licked the beginning of Ludwig's thigh, then, let his tongue wander upwards, slowly.

_Now or never_… he thought. Then, his tongue met his fingers which were still tightly wrapped around the thick, slightly twitching member. And then, they met hot, smooth skin, and he was licking Ludwig's shaft. He tried to recall how the German had done it to him and did the same; he licked a way upwards and then kissed gently the side of the head. Was it alright? Was he doing it right? Did he like it? The hand on his head felt even heavier than before. And incredibly hot. Not to mention that it was pulling slightly at his hair, which made it kind of difficult for him to move freely. He tentatively licked over the little slit at the tip of the member and grimaced slightly as it tasted strange, kind of salty. But the next time he tried, the taste was already gone. He didn't think too much about it and just took the sensitive glans into his mouth, rubbing it with the flat of his tongue and sucking gently at it. Now he could taste the strange flavor again, but it didn't bother him anymore. He could feel his own erection starting to be a little painful inside his pants… but he tried to ignore it as well as he could. He sucked a bit harder and the German gasped softly. He tilted his head to the side and glanced up at him. The way Ludwig was staring at him was really embarrassing… but also a bit arousing. He focused on what he was doing again and tried to take more of the hot member into his mouth. A low groan reached his ears and he managed to swallow the half of it. Ludwig had been able to take him wholly in… but… but maybe this was alright as a start? He could feel his saliva starting to drip down on the corner of his lips, but it didn't matter. He started to very slowly bob his head up and down. And even though he had never done this before, it wasn't as difficult as he had imagined it to be. Even… even if he still had to learn much… Ludwig was breathing heavily and leading his head gently… and it was the proof that it couldn't feel too bad, right? With one hand, he followed the movements of his mouth and with the other he caressed the German's hipbone and lower abdomen. He sucked a little more while coming up to the tip and soon, he felt the blonde try to push his head away, which confused him a little.

"S-stop… I'm… …" Ludwig hissed lowly and managed to push the Italian's head away just in time, before releasing with a soft groan. Feliciano watched with big eyes as the thick, white fluid spilled over his hand. He felt so incredibly aroused that he couldn't help but grab himself through his trousers and squeeze hard. Ludwig was still panting - and yet, he made a gesture to come closer. So Feliciano sat down onto his lap and let his pants be pushed down slightly. He leaned heavily with his side against him and relished the moment the German's fingers wrapped around his painfully throbbing erection, pumping him with one skilled hand. And even though he was ashamed about it… he couldn't help but find himself coming in a matter of seconds. With a choked mewl, he came and then went limp against the blonde's chest. They sat in silence for a short while to recuperate their breaths and then Feliciano dared to ask sheepishly:

"W-was it good?"

"It… was very good. You did well…" Ludwig praised him and then chuckled lowly. He kissed the top of his head affectionately and wrapped an arm around the Italian's midsection. They still had a little bit time left, but soon, Feliciano would have to go back to the barracks… But it was alright. The next day they would see each other again after all.

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><p>Weeks passed and it was way too good to be true. Every day, the three prisoners would eat lunch and dinner together and even Lovino seemed to have accepted the German after a while. Every evening, Ludwig and Feliciano would meet outside and talk, share tender moments, but often also pleasure each other with mouth and hands. There was never intercourse involved… as they tried to at least keep <em>that<em> part of the agreement intact. What they were doing was already way too dangerous… but they couldn't help themselves. Not only was it a way to be close to each other, but also a way to ease the distress the both of them unconsciously still felt. When their time ran out, Feliciano would always go back to his barrack first, where he would stay with Lovino for the night, and Ludwig would go back to his own. No guards had caught them yet… no guards had even warned them yet. Everything seemed to go way too smoothly…

And it is exactly when everything is perfect… that the worst things happen.

Ludwig had been working on the plantation, when a couple of guards approached him and grabbed him harshly, forcing him to follow them as they walked in the direction of the camp's headquarters. He had no clue what was going on and was scared to death that they might have found out about him and Feliciano. But he realized quickly that something was off the moment he recognized the hallway he had been pushed through a hundred of times to meet one specific English officer... and then, it doomed on him what other reason could have brought him there. And that reason… was just as bad as the first possibility would have been. There he was, inside that infamous office again… but this time, he wasn't chained up against the wall. The chains were already occupied by somebody else…

His heart stung at the sight in front of him. He had kind of pushed what he had done to the back of his mind after having been released from his cell. But now _he_ was there, right in front of him. And he was almost unrecognizable.

"Oh, you've finally arrived. I guess you already noticed that we have a special guest today. This man has been the cause of death of lots and lots of British and French soldiers, and I am proud to announce that we caught him – thanks to you."

He was… he looked… he looked like a corpse… He was just hanging there with his arms stretched over his head. His white hair was gummed up with old and fresh blood. It hid away most part of his sickly pale face, but the little which was visible was covered with bruises and blood as well. His lower lip was split and swollen. His German officer uniform dirtied and thorn apart in some points…

"GILBERT!" Ludwig cried, flinging himself in his direction. The guards held him firmly back, but they released him after the English officer had made a gesture of approval. The German threw himself at the man chained up against the wall and shook him hysterically, afraid that he really was dead. But the albino groaned softly and slowly opened his scarlet eyes. One of them was swollen to the extent that it made almost no difference to when it had been closed, but the other one tiredly searched for the reason of his discomfort. When his gaze met Ludwig's he smirked weakly.

"You really fucked up this time… Lud… I thought we were friends…"

"We tracked down the mafia in Paris and guess what? He was hiding there as well as a lot of other German soldiers. Can you imagine? Just hiding there, right under our noses? … We eliminated everybody, of course, but I thought that you might like to confirm this man's identity before we go on with _his _elimination…" the Englishman spoke teasingly.

Ludwig's trembling hand reached up to gently cup the other German's bruised face and tilt his head back. It was his fault… it was entirely his fault if Gilbert was in that state. And it was all his fault if so many of his people had had to die…

"Why… why do you take war so personally? Why do you torture people like this? Aren't we all in the same fucking situation?" the blonde suddenly yelled at the English officer, losing the last bit of self-control he had left in his despair. The man sitting at his desk seemed to be surprised by the way his eyes slightly widened, before lowering to stay fixed on the ground.

"Why…? Why do _you_ people take this war so personally?" he countered bitterly, raising his green eyes to meet Ludwig's blue ones. "Do you have siblings, German?" he suddenly asked.

"What the hell does this have to do with anything?" Ludwig spat. Gilbert started to cough furiously and he turned around concerned, grasping his convulsing upper body in fear. If he… if he were to die he would never forgive himself.

"_Three brothers_. I used to have three brothers. After our parents died, it became my responsibility to take care of them, to make sure that they were alright while growing up. One of them, you already know… my little Peter. The other two… were twins."

"I still don't see what this has to do with anything...!"

"_Your people_! _You_ fucking krauts caught them! Only because they were my brothers! They were just _children_ for god's sake! CHILDREN! And you know what your fucking people did? They experimented on them like on fucking mice! I saw the pictures! You cannot even imagine how sick and disgusting the things were they have done to them!"

Both Germans were taken aback by that confession. Everybody in the room fell silent and the only noise left was Gilbert's raspy breathing.

"This is horrible… but it still has nothing to do with us." Ludwig muttered, his voice and expression much softer than before, though. Kirkland laughed loudly, which made the blonde German wince slightly in uncertainty.

"It has _everything_ to do with you. _He_ is one of the ones who captured them after all." he said hatefully, pointing at Gilbert at the "he" part. "He deserves what's coming to him… Alfred… he was such a cute energetic boy! Always up for a wrestling fight… and Matthew… such a sweet little thing. He wouldn't have hurt a fly. And they just…"

And strangely, Ludwig kind of felt sympathy for the man on the other side of the room, when he rubbed his face tiredly, trying to hide that he was actually on the verge of tears. Was it true what he had said? Had Gilbert really been the one capturing two innocent children and… and let them become subjects of sick experiments? He knew the people in their concentrations camps were sometimes used for scientific purposes… but two kids… just because they had had the misfortune of being born related to an important English officer…

"It wasn't me… I was only the one receiving them in the camp…" the albino spoke softly, almost as if he could hear what Ludwig was thinking about. "I didn't know about the experiments on them… I swear."

A little blond boy surprised them all, when he sheepishly entered the room.

"B-brother… Steven has sent me to tell you that the new disembarkment has arrived." he said and then gasped in shock at the sight of the bloodied man against the wall. A trembling hand rose to cover his mouth.

"What the bloody hell have I told you, Peter? I don't want you to walk in there while I'm having my meetings!" the English officer scolded him harshly, gesturing wildly for him to get out. He looked slightly in panic.

"I'm… I… I was just…" the boy started, but didn't manage to bring another word out, as he began to shake furiously.

"Bloody hell! I've always known that keeping you here is wrong – but what other choice do I have?"

"What if they were still alive… what then…?" a weak voice interrupted the little scenario. Everybody's attention went back to the poor albino attached to the wall. A thick thread of blood was hanging from his chin and it tore the moment he raised his head to look in Kirkland's eyes.

"What if they were to be freed and escorted back to you…? Would you let me and my subordinate go as well?"

"Peter, get immediately out of here!" the Englishman ordered after a short moment of hesitation, addressing the small boy. Peter lowered his gaze to the ground and then ran out of the room, obviously distressed. The English officer seemed to have some remorses for a second, but he braced himself quickly. He stood up of his chair and walked over to where the two German's were standing. Ludwig's back straightened considerably and he took place in front of his injured companion, as if daring Kirkland to do something to him. But the Englishman didn't seem to want to do anything of the sort. He came to a halt right in front of them and spoke:

"They _aren't_ alive. They have been gone for years now."

"But what if they were…?" Gilbert insisted.

"Then… then I would think about it." the English officer replied, his usual self-confident posture starting to crumble slightly.

"I can contact the military force working in the camp… I can arrange this…" the albino pleaded, then started coughing loudly again.

"This… this is insane… is there a chance that they are still alive?" the English man asked, his eyes shining up in hope like the ones of a naïve child. It was almost stunning the way he had changed from a predatory wolf into a tame little lamb in a fraction of a second.

"I hope so… but you have to give us your word… and let us go if they are safely returned to you… Give me paper… and ink… and I shall contact the superiors of the concentration camp they used to be kept prisoners in."

One hour later, Ludwig found himself inside a familiar cell once again. They had told him he would be released as soon as the letter had been written, but he still couldn't say he was happy about it… even if this time he wasn't there alone. Gilbert was sitting at the little table in the corner and trying to write, but his hands were shaking way too much to keep the pencil between his fingers. It kept sliding out of his grasp over and over again, but the albino wouldn't let himself be helped. They hadn't talked after they had been dragged in there. Ludwig wanted to tell him that he was sorry for betraying him… it was his fault if the man had been injured severely… But he wanted also to punch him in the face for having given him those fucking documents months ago… and for having gotten involved with the Italian mafia. Even during war… it still never brought any good to deal with them… and look where they had ended up because of this. When the officer was done writing, he collapsed onto the table and Ludwig couldn't help but feel great sympathy for him. He approached him and helped him to stand up and walk over to the bed. Gilbert fell onto it with a weak groan of pain.

"I wish… we could have seen each other again under different circumstances." the albino croaked out, panting heavily. "Why did you have… to let yourself… get caught … you dumbass?"

"Why didn't you tell me how important and dangerous the task was, when you gave me those fucking envelopes, you idiot?" Ludwig retorted angrily, hovering over him. He hesitated, then, reached out to carefully graze the slightly older man's marred face with his fingertips. And the anger was gone, all at once.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered, holding back his tears by sheer force of will. He wouldn't give the other German the satisfaction of seeing him cry over him. "I'm sorry… if only… if only I wouldn't have told them…"

"Ksese… getting emotional… aren't we…?"

"Shut up…" Ludwig growled, lowering his hand to gently grab the albino's shoulder instead. It was silent for a long while, apart from Gilbert's heavy, suffering breathing. Then the blonde finally said what had been on his mind ever since it had been mentioned.

"I cannot go, Gil. Even if the twins were to be still alive… you don't understand. I have somebody I care about deeply here. I won't leave him alone, no matter what…"

"What about me… do you still care about me a little…?"

"Of course I still care about you, you idiot! What kind of question is that?"

Gilbert chuckled weakly again and moved his hand to meet Ludwig's which was lying on the bed right next to him. The blonde considered ignoring him, but eventually took the bloodied hand in his own anyway.

"Good… because I still care about you as well, you know… even after having dumped me and all… no hard feelings, right…? Ksese…"

"Will you shut up already? We've never been together from the very start and you know it...!" Ludwig hissed softly, but still brought the hand near his heart. He stroked it nervously with his thumb and started nibbling on his lower lip.

What to do now? He could hardly throw away a chance to get out of there, right? Was there a possibility that Kirkland would let him bring Feliciano along? … He wasn't going to leave if there wasn't. This was already sure. But Feliciano? Would he want to come along without Lovino? He was way too fond of the other Italian to leave him behind… And the Englishman wouldn't let go all of them, not to mention that there was also that Spaniard…

But first of all, they had to find out if the twins were even still alive…

* * *

><p><strong>TBC…<strong>

**Sooo… xD Dedicated to everybody who wanted to know who Ludwig's first was… and yes, I am an obsessive Germancest fan… sorry. But don't worry; this is a GerIta-fic after all. ^^**

**Oh, and I really hope the next part's going to be the last one… I think this fanfic would have been slightly better if it hadn't started as a PWP… but yeah. x) I've never written so much smut in so little time… Oo**

**Please let me know if you liked or not! ****Reviews motivate me greatly. ^^**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello guys!**

**There you go; I continued "At least thrice". And it sadly isn't the last part... Please don't kill me after you have read this. ^^' Spamano fans might be happy after reading this. GerIta fans will be a little disappointed. And smut fans will be veeery disappointed. Next part will contain a hella lot of fluffy GerIta, I promise.**

**I wanted to thank all my readers, also the anonym ones. My e-mail address is on my profile now if somebody wants to contact me (Fuminoriii =]) So, I think this is all. **

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><p>Feliciano sat at the long table, on the opposite side of it, sat Lovino. The seat beside the auburn-brunette was empty.<p>

…Where was Ludwig? Why hadn't he come to the dining hall yet? Was he alright? Had, maybe, something happened to him?

A thousand possibilities which would explain the German's absence crossed Feliciano's mind, but he immediately dismissed them all. Not _one_ of them was even remotely positive. As a result of the whole issue, the poor Italian couldn't bring down one bite of his anyway meager meal. He opted to nibble on his lower lip and fingertips instead, until they were raw and almost on the point of bleeding.

"Will you stop that, goddammit?" Lovino scolded him for the umpteenth time. Despite the harshness in his voice, there was great sympathy in his eyes.

"I'm so worried…" Feliciano admitted in a breathless mumble. "So worried… what if…" he broke off, unable to say what he had been thinking about out loud. His eyes widened slowly, as he lost himself in thought more and more, and he started to tremble lightly. Observant of the whole scenario, Lovino sighed softly and stood up of his chair. He disappeared for a short moment into the crowd which was still waiting for its ration of dinner and then emerged on the other side of the table, where he took a seat on the empty place next to Feliciano. He nervously looked around for a moment and then wrapped an arm around the other Italian's shoulders. It was a sincere, well-intended gesture, but it turned out as the trigger to Feliciano's following crying fit. The smaller Italian broke out in tears and desperately grasped the chocolate-brunette's prisoner uniform, clinging to it as if his life depended on it.

"L-Lovi…! W-what if they have locked h-him up i-inside a cell again? O-or w-worse – what if they a-are transferring him into another c-camp? … What if t-they h-have KILLED him?"

"Feli… calm down. Shh… be quiet…" Lovino hushed him gently, pulling him closer the way he could press the distressed male's face against his chest and muffle the sobs. He anxiously looked around, but the only people, who had noticed anything at all, were a few other prisoners around them, and they didn't do anything but look at them in pity.

"Shh…" he continued too hush him, reaching up with his free arm to cradle his head and keep his face buried in the red-white striped shirt. "Maybe he's just refinishing. They make us do it sometimes when we slack off during work. Make us stay without lunch or dinner and work instead."

"L-L-Ludwig isn't t-the type t-to just 'slack o-off'! He m-must be… t-they m-must have-"

"No, Feli!" Lovino sternly cut him off. "They haven't. Wait until this evening to worry. If he doesn't show up, we can talk about this again. Now calm down…!"

Feliciano continued to cry for a while, but he eventually quietened down. His frantic sobs became less erratic and his convulsing body relaxed until it was only quivering and twitching every now and then.

"A-alright…" he squeaked weakly against Lovino's by then drenched prisoner uniform. He slightly pulled back from the embrace and sniffled pitiably. He released the rumpled fabric from his death grip, entwined an arm around the southern Italian's neck and dried off his tear-streaked face with the sleeve of his other arm. He looked like a little kid, with his eyes puffy and bloodshot, and his cheeks flushed like that, Lovino mused.

"Th-thank you, Lovi…" he said softly, rubbing an eye tiredly. Lovino's hand left its place between Feliciano's auburn locks to rest on his burning cheek instead. Then he remembered where they were and panicky looked around.

"Is he going to be alright?" one of the prisoners next to them asked, making a little gesture in the direction of the scrawny young man in the chocolate-brunette's arms. Lovino let out a shaky breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding in and then nodded weakly. No guard had noticed them. The dining hall was indeed full of people, which made it difficult for anyone specific to attract attention. But you could never be careful enough, especially if it was familiar that you were a homosexual. Lovino didn't know how many of the guards actually knew it, but two men being too affectionate to each other, was generally a not really welcomed scenario in the concentration camp.

He reluctantly removed Feliciano's arm from around his neck and then steadied him on his chair, before straightening himself. The poor, distressed young man wobbled a little and then raised his eyes to meet Lovino's green ones. He still looked terrible, but he attempted at a smile all the same.

"V-vee~ y-you're right, Lovi. I o-overreacted!" he stuttered, trying to sound cheerful. "He'll surely come to our appointment this evening. And he'll probably make fun of me, too, for having been so worried!"

There, he faked a giggle. Lovino didn't bother joining in. He eyed the other prisoner anxiously, imagining what would happen if Ludwig _didn't_ show up. He had always been opposed to those secret meetings the smaller Italian was having with that macho-potato, but he also understood that they were necessary for his emotional well-being. If only they weren't so goddamn dangerous…

"Be careful tonight." he muttered softly, watching as Feliciano halfheartedly took a mouthful of his rather flavorless soup.

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><p>Gilbert had passed out - right in front of his eyes. His breathing had become fainter and fainter… His hand had become heavier and heavier. And then, he had slowly closed his scarlet eyes and had gone limp. And even after shaking him by his shoulders and calling out for him a few times, he hadn't stirred.<p>

So Ludwig had shifted on the bed, the way he could lean against the wall, and then he had pulled the officer's upper body onto his lap and had been supporting it with one arm ever since. The hand of his free arm was tightly enclosed around the other German's sweaty and cold one again, but the limp and therefore heavy limb attached to it risked dragging it down and out of his grasp.

Had he been injured lethally? Was he maybe bleeding internally? Had he been gravely hit in the head? Every few minutes he would make sure that the older man was still breathing. He lay there like a corpse, but at least his chest kept rising and falling weakly. And as long as this didn't change, Ludwig would stay calm.

They had been left in there for quite some time by then. He could see from the narrow window that the sun had started setting. He needed to get out of there before dinner time or at least before the evening. Feliciano would worry himself to death if he didn't show up. But would the officer be alright without him? They weren't going to hurt him any further until they knew if the twins were still alive, right? Ludwig hoped they were safe – for the other German's sake. It was obvious that he would be killed if Kirkland received the message that they were dead…

And Gilbert didn't deserve to die like that. Not to mention that Ludwig would never forgive himself for having betrayed him. After Feliciano, the albino was still the closest person to him he had. Even after everything that had happened between them...

"Best friends forever, remember…?" the blonde softly whispered more to himself than to the unconscious man in his arms. "Don't die, you idiot…!"

And as he sat there, gazing at the albino's marred face; he couldn't help but think back to the old times, when everything used to be alright. Back then, he was so young and so naïve. Life seemed to be complicated, difficult, while it had actually been so easy and worriless. He wished he could have the worries he had back then _now_. Back then, he complained about having too much homework. Back then, he joked about killing the French teacher for having given him a bad mark in the oral exam.

Now, he had to work from morning to night, sometimes completing useless tasks and other times exhausting ones. And if he wouldn't comply, he would be punished. And not by writing a hundred times "I am always going to do my homework from now on", but by taking in humiliation in the form of emotional and physical damage.

Now, he didn't joke about killing anymore. He had done it. He had killed a hundred of French and English soldiers, without batting an eye. War wasn't a joke; it had had nothing to do with bad marks. It had had to do with life and death. Kill – or get killed. And so, you kill. You kill, because otherwise _they_ kill _you_. And you learn to call them your enemy and you learn to be heartless, because this is how war works. You learn how to ignore the fact that they are human, just like you, and that you are killing them without having a good reason to do so. Because a good reason to kill somebody _doesn't exist_. And so, your reason to kill becomes the wish to _survive _and it is enough of a good reason for you not to feel guilty.

Ludwig chuckled bitterly for himself. Back then, he was convinced that _his_ first time had been the worst first time in the world. They had been at the older German's home alone, as his parents had left for Austria the whole weekend. They had been carefree and safe; they had been clean and equipped. His only worries had been Gilbert being an asshole by making him bottom and then making a fool out of himself by coming off way too soon. And Gilbert… being sick after having pleased him orally. It had sucked maybe, but at least it was something they had been able to laugh about later.

Feliciano's first time had sucked, but by no means in a funny way. They had been hungry, dirty and scared. They had fucked in the wild like two animals. There had been no tenderness - there had been only distress and the wish for release. And the Italian had even been lied to by the person he had put all his trust in. He had been used… kind of. Ludwig had already been in love with him back then, and he mused that Feliciano had probably already been in love with him, as well. But it had still been wrong of him to lie to the Italian. If somebody had the right to say that his first time had sucked, then it was Feliciano. But Ludwig hadn't heard him complain about it once… he hoped he would be able to make it up to him one day…

His musing was interrupted, by the door of the cell being unlocked and two guards stepping in. They looked back and forth between him and the unconscious albino with a severe expression on their faces, but said nothing. They walked over to the table and one of them took the letter and started to read it, angrily shaking his head after only few seconds.

"What the hell is this?" he yelled in French, yanking the piece of paper through the air. "This shit is completely useless! It's smudgy and has blood stains on it! You won't be coming out of here until this is written correctly and cleanly!"

"Please… my friend needs medical assistance…" Ludwig pleaded, slowly and carefully slipping out from under Gilbert's limp body. "And I need to go outside, please!"

"What do you think this place is? A wish-fulfilling company? It's war, my boy! It's a concentration camp! You should be thankful to have found out the boss' weak point – your "friend" would be dead by now! Write the letter and stop complaining!"

And just like they had come, they left again. And Ludwig was left with an unconscious Gilbert and a letter to write. He just hoped Feliciano would be fine without him… maybe he could still make it in time…

* * *

><p>"<em>L-Ludwig… w-what's wrong…? Why are you…"<em>

"_Feliciano." the blonde gently cut him off. "Feliciano, you need to be as quiet as possible now."_

_The Italian looked at him confused, but he didn't have the time to dwell on it any longer, as Ludwig slipped his hand into his red-white striped pants and immediately wrapped his fingers around the sensitive organ in there._

"_Oo-ooh! L-L-Ludwig…!" the smaller male uttered in shock, but felt a wave of hotness wash over him. His arms twitched lightly and they would have slipped down the wall, had Ludwig not been holding them firmly against it. He started stroking him gently, enjoying the feeling of his manhood becoming hard like a rock. He was so glad to have made it back just in time… Feliciano had been so worried… he had been so happy to see him. And now he was quivering under his touches… and whimpering for more…_

"_Ahh... Ludwig… L-Ludwig… please…"_

"_What do you want?" he whispered softly in his ear. He pushed his hips forward and rubbed his throbbing erection against Feliciano's rear. They could surely make an exception for this time, right? It would be his apology for having made the Italian worry so much… and he would make sure to make him feel only pleasure this time..._

"_Ludwig…"_

_He let go of his hands and crotch, pulled his pants down and grabbed his buttocks instead. He parted them gently with his thumbs and watched as his saliva slipped slowly between them. He freed his twitching member from the confines of his trousers and rubbed the head of it against the wet entrance._

"_Nnnh… ooh... I've wanted this… for a l-long time."_

"_I know… I've wanted this… for a long time… as well."_

_Very gently, he pushed against the tight ring. Nothing happened. He pushed slightly harder and gasped as the head of his manhood was suddenly swallowed by that hot body. Feliciano was whining softly, breathlessly. He waited a little… then continued to push further in…_

"_Ahh… Ludwi…"_

He woke up to the sound of somebody having a coughing fit. His erection died in record time after having realized that it had been only a dream. He felt ashamed to even have _dreamed_ about something like that in the crappy situation he was in. War was definitely making an animal out of him…

He lifted his head off his arms slowly. He was still inside that cell. Feliciano was somewhere outside, waiting for him. Alone… he hoped he was going to be fine without him for one evening. Tomorrow, he would explain everything to him… he would tell him about Gilbert and the twins… he would tell him that, maybe, if Kirkland wasn't a complete asshole, he would allow him to bring Feliciano along, as well. He hoped the twins were alive. He really did.

Another coughing fit resounded in the small room. He rubbed his face tiredly and blinked a few times. He had fallen asleep after having written the letter… was the letter intact? He checked on it and found it just like he had left it before. Good, at least the letter was done. He, then, stood up wobbling a little and walked over to the bed. Gilbert had turned on his side and was coughing up blood if the blood stains on the linen next to his mouth were proof enough…

"Are you alright?" Ludwig asked softly, crouching down next to the bed and reaching up to gently stroke the albino's hair.

"I hurt everywhere…" was the croaked out response.

"Yeah… I don't doubt it. You were passed out for a long time…"

Gilbert coughed again, this time in a less bad manner.

"I must have inhaled quite a bit of blood." he muttered, sniffling a little. Suddenly, the door of the cell was unlocked for the second time that evening. Both Germans looked in its direction and were surprised to see the officer's little brother step shyly in. He was holding something in his arms… a first aid box?

"S-sirs…" he squeaked nervously. "Have you written the letter?"

"It's on the table." Ludwig answered. Wait, had the kid come to tell him that he could go? No way, the guards wouldn't let him go back to the barracks alone. It was obvious…

"A-alright. Here." Peter took a few steps towards them and laid the box on the floor. He looked at Gilbert with the same expression he had had in Kirkland's office: affected and horrified. But now there was especially sympathy in his blue eyes.

"D-does my big brother do this kind of things often?" he asked, lowering his gaze to the floor. Ludwig's eyes widened slightly. He stared at the little boy for a long time, before answering in English:

"Your brother is just trying to do what he thinks is right."

Peter glanced at him, looking a bit confused. He obviously didn't know if this statement was supposed to be positive or negative. He slowly backed off and then ran out of the cell, locking it up again.

"Hey – what about the letter?" Ludwig yelled, swiftly standing up.

"I don't really think… this was about the letter… at all…" the other German groaned softly, struggling to get into a sitting position.

* * *

><p>There he was, at their agreed meeting spot for the evening. And Ludwig wasn't there, even though it usually had been him the one waiting impatiently for him every time the brunette arrived. Feliciano felt ready to have another crying fit, but he pulled himself together. If the German had been forced to keep working, he would probably show up later. It made perfectly sense.<p>

He let himself fall down, ignoring the sharp pain in his knees as they made contact with the pebble-like ground. The rubble around him kept him hidden, but without Ludwig at his side he felt exposed and vulnerable. Tears started welling up in his eyes, but he just sniffled them back and shifted the way he could sit on his behind. He then pulled his legs close to his chest and hugged them tightly. He let his chin rest on his kneecap and tried to convince himself that Ludwig was going to come soon and that he had no reason to be worried. But the more he thought about it, the more he felt like he was fooling himself.

A few tears managed to escape from the corner of his eyes, but he ignored them. He swallowed to soothe his burning throat and tilted his head to the side to look up into the sky. The moon was covered by a thick layer of black clouds. Feliciano shivered fearfully, noticing how dark it was. And cold… the wind kept tugging at his clothes, as if it was trying to tear them off his shivering body. With Ludwig at his side, those places had never seemed so creepy… and it had never been cold…

Some time had passed and the German hadn't still showed up. Feliciano had finally given in to his feelings and was crying quietly. The brunette's chest stung painfully as it convulsed every time the small prisoner sobbed. He hugged himself tighter to have some kind of comfort, but it didn't help in the slightest. The darkness continued to scare him. The cold continued to torment him. And Ludwig continued to be missing. All the thoughts he had had at dinner came crashing down onto him, knocking him off internally. He tried to be quiet, but he couldn't help himself; his crying became more and more frantic until he couldn't almost breathe anymore. His Ludwig was gone. Once again, he was gone. And this time, it hurt even more than the first time he had been taken away from him. Because the higher you go, the harder you fall. And he had been on cloud nine. The days he had spent with Ludwig had made everything up to him. All the sorrow, all the fear, humiliation and pain … it had been all gone the moment he had seen the German again.

And now, he was gone.

The young man had been crying so hard that he almost didn't hear them, the steps. His first reaction to them, was gasping loudly, his eyes lightening up with hope. He scrambled to his feet and shrieked the moment something hit him hard in the chest, making him fall back onto the ground. A hand was pushed harshly against his mouth to muffle his screams, while another one tried to keep him down. A distorted voice was hissing things to him, but it was impossible for him to understand something in the state of fear he was in. Adrenaline was shooting through his veins as he tried to get away from the clutches of the person crouching over him. He could hear only his blood rush in his ears, could feel only his heart throb furiously against his ribcage and in his throat. So this was it. This was the end for him.

Until he finally realized that the voice was calling his name over and over again and had actually a very familiar note to it.

"Feliciano, calm down! Calm down for heaven's sake!"

Feliciano went limp and closed his eyes in extreme relief. As he lay there, quivering like a leaf, the hands released him from their harsh grip and started caressing his face and hair in a calming manner instead.

"It's alright, calm down… shhh…" Lovino kept whispering to him, until the distressed Italian could finally breathe normally again. "It's alright, it's just me…"

When Feliciano had finally calmed down, he slowly, shakily sat upright, but he couldn't utter a word as he was still too much under shock. Lovino shifted closer to him and hugged him tightly, continuing to caress his hair in that position.

"… What were you thinking, you little idiot? What would you have done if I had been a guard?" he reproved him softly. The auburn-brunette sobbed quietly and wrapped his arms around the other prisoner.

"Lovi…! L-Ludwig didn't c-come…!"

"I know, but you don't understand…! It's past curfew, Feliciano! We need to go back to the barracks immediately! The barrack supervisor goes relatively easy on the prisoners of his dormitory because he knows them, but we are done for if a guard finds us!"

Right then, it didn't matter to Feliciano if a guard found him or not. He just wanted to know what had happened to his beloved one and have him back by his side… but Lovino had put himself deliberately in danger for him. He rubbed his face dry and pulled himself together.

Lovino helped the smaller Italian to stand up and supported him by holding him by his upper arm. They walked a short distance, before coming abruptly to a halt. Hidden in the shadow of a huge block of stone, they watched a couple of guards wrestle and laugh in the distance, obviously distracted. Those idiots wouldn't have been disconcerting at all, hadn't they been holding a rifle in their arms. He hoped they accidentally shot each other… He turned his head to check on Feliciano, who was staring at the guards with big, fearful eyes, but had himself otherwise under control again.

"There." the southern Italian whispered, pointing at a few trees and bushes. They made sure that the guards were still fooling around and then sneaked out of their hiding place.

It went on like that for a while and it looked like they were going to make it safely back to the barracks. The barrack supervisor would hit them for sure… but the pain he was going to inflict on them was nothing compared to what a guard would do to them, would he find them outside after curfew… and even more so if it happened to be one of the guards, who knew that the both of them were homosexuals…

"It's impossible… there is one standing right in front of the barrack's entrance!" Feliciano pointed out in despair.

"We'll wait until he goes away… and then we-"

He never finished the sentence. A bright light made the both of them stumble backwards and cover their eyes with their hands. They heard yells and suddenly, there was a loud crackling noise which was drowned out by Lovino's even louder cries of pain, as he was hit by a blinding blue lighting. He fell onto the ground, convulsing and twitching as the electricity shot through every single one of his nerves, his fingers opening and closing in spasms, his limbs jerking in every direction. And even when he stopped screaming, the fit went on. His eyes were unnaturally widened and his mouth continued to open and reclose. Feliciano could only stare in pure horror, until something hit him hard in the head and made him fly and crash onto the ground, as well. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs and everything turned black in front of his eyes.

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><p>„Mi pequeño tesoro… "<p>

He remembered his voice clearly. His low, melodic voice. And the way he would call him "his little treasure". He would always get flustered and hit him in the gut… but their wrestling fights would always end up the same way. There was no escape from the charms of that villain. That villain, who had not only kidnapped him, but his heart as well. And by kidnapping him, he had saved him from a sure death… How the hell could you not fall in love with a villain that was at the same time the most valiant hero of all?

He could remember his touches. Actually, he could _feel _them right then. His way of caressing his cheek, his way of letting his long, slender fingers slide through his hair. And how they would slip downwards… to gently descend his jugular vein and contour his collarbone… and lower… across his chest…

"Wake up… Lovino… please…"

And then, he opened his eyes, bobbed up with a flounce and screamed as loudly as he could, because everything hurt and because he didn't want to die and because he didn't want to wake up - oh no, he didn't - he didn't want to lose him again. He screamed and cried, and pain shot through every one of his limbs, he could feel them burn and spasm, he could feel his heart pound exaggeratedly fast against his ribcage. And his lungs were failing him, as he tried to inhale and found himself unable to.

But the world froze the moment those strong arms enclosed around him; keeping him safe, keeping him warm... Lovino heard himself fight for air. When had those arms been around him for the last time? He went slack as a gentle hand glided along his spine, coming to a halt on the back of his head to support it. He breathed. He breathed and came to his senses.

"YOU BASTARD!" he screamed, breaking out in tears and desperately clasped Antonio's upper body. "YOU M-MADE ME SUFFER L-LIKE A DOG!"

"I've missed you so much, too, mi pequeño tesoro…!" the Spaniard whispered softly, completely unfazed by the insulting. He held the smaller male close, he kissed his hair, his temple, his cheek… and it didn't matter that they were in the medical shack of the camp and that there were probably other people, too, behind those dirty curtains which separated the beds from each other.

"What t-the hell are you doing…? Kiss m-me for r-real, goddammit!" Lovino blubbered out, reaching up to cup Antonio's face. The Spaniard smiled sadly and kissed him gently on the lips, pulling back almost immediately. The smaller male glanced at him confused, tears still running down his cheeks.

"… I am… working for them now. We can't be together anymore…" the dark-brown-haired man explained, his voice full of remorse.

"W-what do you m-mean 'you're working for them'? PLEASE, tell me you're fucking LYING!"

Lovino's hands slipped down to grab the collar of his beloved one's prisoner uniform – no, wait… Kapo prisoner uniform…

"They gave me no other choice… They made a proposal: either I told them where the remaining fugitives hiding places were or I started working for them…" and as he said this, he leaned in, contradicting what he had said before as he brushed his lips longingly against the Italian's slightly quivering ones. But Lovino pushed him halfheartedly off himself, starting to cry harder another time.

"S-so what n-now? Are you going to be the o-one shooting at m-me at the end of all this?" he cried, grabbing the sheets he was lying under and tugging them up to his chest. Antonio's eyes filled up with tears and he looked hurt and ashamed. He shifted on the bed and reached out to pull the distressed male back into an embrace, but Lovino flinched away.

"Please, don't do this to me…" Antonio breathed softly, one tear finally slipping out of his eye. Lovino kept crying for himself a long time, ignoring the Spaniards attempts at making him look at him completely. It hurt so much to have his love finally back and then hear that he had practically changed sides. He understood why he had done it… but it didn't make it any better.

"… Feliciano, where is he?" the Italian sobbed, not bothering to push Antonio's hands away anymore. Making use of his defeat, the Spaniard wrapped an arm around his shoulders and affectionately stroked some loose hair strands out of his face.

"Lovino… please…"

"Y-you're the one saying w-we can't be together anymore – stop it already!"

Antonio gently grabbed the Italian's chin and tilted his head back. He then pressed his lips firmly against Lovino's and kissed him passionately. The smaller male couldn't help but kiss back just as desperately, his hands clenching the white sheets tightly. When they separated, they were both silent, breathing slightly heavier.

"I will always love you, mi pequeño tesoro… and I believe that in this way I can protect you more than in any other." the Spaniard spoke softly, grazing Lovino's tear-streaked cheeks with his lips. The Italian sobbed another few times and then wrapped his arms around him. How could he not love this goddamn idiot? They lingered in that position for some minutes, enjoying their moment of peace, until Lovino repeated:

"Feliciano… I need to know where he is. He was with me when I got caught!"

"You were alone when they brought you into the headquarters." Antonio answered cautiously, rubbing the other male's back to calm him down.

And then, Lovino remembered it. He remembered everything again.

"_Take this one. He's out of his senses, he won't cause any trouble." the guard holding the stun gun said in English, pointing at the twitching southern Italian in front of his feet. "I'm taking the other one." _

"_What are we going to do with them?" the other guard, who was holding a flashlight in his hand, asked. "Why the fuck haven't we just killed them? It's not like it makes a difference if there are two more or two less of them." He bent down and hauled Lovino, who was suddenly lying completely motionless and stiff, over his shoulder._

"_It's not up to you to decide, you moron!" the first guard ranted at him harshly._

"_Hey… wait. Isn't that one the sex toy of that kraut-garbage, who fucked up your nose for good?" the second guard asked, nodding towards Feliciano, who was still lying half-unconscious on the ground._

"… _yes. That's why I'm not going to report him. Take the other one to the superiors."_

"_And what about him?"_

"_I'll take care of him personally. I'm going to make that fucking sausage muncher wish he never hit me." and as he said so, he grabbed Feliciano's nape and thin arm roughly, and pulled him up to his feet. The auburn-brunette just whimpered softly, a throbbing pain in his skull making it impossible for him to think clearly. He could barely walk, so he just let himself be dragged away, not knowing what was expecting him._

"No… Feli…"

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><p><strong>TBC...<strong>

**Please don't kill me Oo I know this chapter turned out slightly different than the others. ****Let me know what you think about it!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Helloo~**

**Please forgive me for the incredibly long wait! It took me frustratingly long to write this chapter, not to mention that I wasn't inspired at all last week. School's also kind of taking me apart… **

**Anyway, thank you so much for all the positive feedback. Every single review brightened my day. Would it be exaggerated to tell you guys that I frigging LOVE YOU?**

**I really hope you won't be disappointed with this chapter. I apologize to some people… as it won't be a very pleasant one to read. **

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><p><strong>Another thing: I've drawn a picture for this fic! If you want to see it, check out my profile – the link's there. <strong>**I hope you like it. *blush* **

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><p><em>Everything had started because he and Ludwig had fallen in love with each other... Because they were homosexuals. So maybe if they hadn't been homosexuals, being a prisoner in that concentration camp would have been slightly more bearable. So maybe, just maybe, if they hadn't been homosexuals, the guards wouldn't have been after them.<em>

_The guards were frustrated, rancorous people; they tended to bother every prisoner they had the chance to pick on, just because it felt good to feast on the weaker ones. It made them feel better about themselves; it made them feel stronger than they actually were. Because the truth is – they were just as broken as everyone else involved in that godforsaken war. _

_Other prisoners weren't treated nearly as badly, as homosexual ones were, though. Homosexuals were treated as if they were worth less than animals. Well… maybe to them they actually _were_ worth less than animals. _

_Or maybe… maybe it truly _was_ wrong being homosexual._

_Before Feliciano had met Ludwig, he had also been convinced that two men or two women loving each other, was wrong, after all. This is how all children were brought up – directly or indirectly. The world taught you that it was wrong, that it was disgusting and abnormal. But it wasn't his fault if he had fallen in love with a person and that person happened to be a man, right? You couldn't control your feelings. You could suppress them, yes. But for how long? He had tried to suppress them. He remembered the first time he had noticed that he liked Ludwig a little bit more than supposed; he would catch himself thinking how handsome he was while staring at him. He would yearn for his closeness… his attention and acknowledgment. The admiration he had felt towards him… had slowly turned into adoration. And there had been nothing he could have done against it. Day after day, week after week, month after month – he had tried not falling in love with him, but he had failed. _

_And then Ludwig had shattered the last bit of sanity he had had left by making that proposition… They had slept together. And it had felt alright to be together with another man that way, to be together with Ludwig. He couldn't imagine himself loving a girl – or anybody else like he loved Ludwig. _

_Was it really that wrong to love somebody, indifferently if male or female, from the bottom of your heart?_

_He wouldn't deny his love for Ludwig by denying his homosexuality. He would stand up for it. If he had to, he would die like the _faggot_ he was, then, at the end of this all. He would die humiliated, less appreciated than a scabby rat. _

_But he wouldn't die denying his love for Ludwig._

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><p>Feliciano slowly opened his eyes, but reclosed them right away. The light was unpleasantly bright. He waited a short while, then tentatively opened them again. With weak, trembling arms, he pushed himself off the ground. He felt pain. An intense throbbing pain in his head – like a really bad migraine. The Italian furrowed his brow and groaned softly. He raised his hand to soothingly rub his hurting left temple, but instead of meeting smooth, soft skin like they should have, his fingers met gummed up hair sticking to what felt like a gash… and when he lowered his hand again, there was blood on his fingertips.<p>

His eyes widened in shock and he fell back on his behind. Everything which had happened came back to his mind: At dinner; the empty seat beside him. In the evening; the darkness, the cold, the fear… Ludwig… who hadn't come. … He could remember himself and Lovino trying to sneak back into their barrack. He could also remember… Lovino, lying on the ground, convulsing and screaming in agony. Oh god, was he alright? Where had they taken him? – Wait, where was Feliciano himself? He panicky looked around, considering his surroundings for the first time since he had woken up. It was a rather small, brightly lightened room. And there was nothing around him but some boxes and other stuff you would find inside a storage room. Maybe this _was_ some kind of storage room? Why would they lock him up inside a storage room? He hastily stood up and almost fell back on the ground as a wave of dizziness washed over him. He clung to the nearest wall and stayed there to catch his breath and try not to hyperventilate. His overstressed heart was beating furiously against his ribcage. Carefully, he pushed himself off the wall and walked over to the door. He grasped the handle and started pulling at it – first, gently, after some attempts, hysterically - but the door was indeed locked.

The realization hit him. There was no escape – he was doomed! He wanted to run, he wanted to hide. And yet, even if the door hadn't been locked, he couldn't have done anything to save himself. There was nowhere he could run to. There was nowhere he could hide. Once you had the guards against yourself as an individual, you could as well start praying. And the fact that they had dragged him into that storage room was the proof that they _had_ something in mind, because prisoners, who were caught outside after curfew – or did something else they shouldn't be doing – were reported, and then the superiors decided what to do with them. But he, he was in a storage room and in a matter of time, they would come for him. He could clearly imagine it: They would hang him up by his arms like a pig, until his shoulders couldn't take it anymore and dislocated. Or maybe they would beat him up and leave him in there, bloody and unconscious, to rot. Maybe they'd let him starve or die of thirst. Maybe they'd kill him right away by shooting him or slitting his throat. What was he after all? He was nothing at all – just a number among thousands of others and nobody would even care that he had been killed without a superior's order!

Still leaning against the door, Feliciano let himself slide down to the ground. He noticed only then that his vision was completely blurred and that tears were flowing down his face like rivers. He was scared to death – yes. And at the same time, he felt like there was no point in panicking. His fate was already sealed. There was nothing he could do against it – he would yield up to it. He would let himself be tortured, killed. Because there was nothing he could do against it.

He thought about his life. His short, useless life. He hadn't had the opportunity to have even _one_ of his dreams come true. … He hadn't had the opportunity to live together with Ludwig. He had not even had the opportunity to see him one last time. He just hoped that he was fine – was going to be fine in the future, as well. He wished the same for Lovino.

… And then, the noise of a door being unlocked resounded in the room. And Feliciano was ready to accept his pitiful fate – whatever it consisted of. He shakily crawled out of the way and felt his heartbeat speed up to an unhealthy rate. Huddled up in a corner of the room, he watched with anxiety as the handle was pushed down and the door swung open. The Italian fearfully raised his gaze and it was returned by two cold dark eyes. He had never seen that guard. He was tall, strongly-built, had fair skin and dark hair. And… he was pointing a gun at him.

"S-sir… I'm s-sorry for having been outside a-after curfew…" Feliciano stuttered in the hope that the man would have mercy on him. He lowered his gaze another time, submissively. He was trembling to the point that even crouching on the floor was a difficult task. He could feel the man stare persistently at him and it made him nibble nervously on his under lip. He sniffled and clutched the hem of his shirt. Was he going to shoot him?

"What the hell is this prisoner doing here?" the man startled Feliciano by shouting this in English. The Italian sneaked a peek at him and noticed that he had holstered the gun and had stepped out of the room again. There was the sound of footsteps approaching and a second guard stepped into the storage room. Feliciano actually recognized this one. He was one of the guards, who picked on him the worst. One of those, who cracked those tasteless sexual jokes. He was slightly shorter and skinnier than the first one and had longer, light brown hair. As soon as he saw Feliciano, his eyes lit up.

"Aww, looks like Sleeping Beauty has woken up also without your kiss, Ad!" he yelled over his shoulder with French accent, while the first guard stepped up next to him and looked down at the distressed prisoner with a pensive face. Other steps. And there he was. The guard, who had used the taser on Lovino. And now Feliciano realized that he knew that guard, as well. He crept him out. He had always a strange expression on his face which the Italian didn't know how to read. Right then, as well. But something about him was kind of different… Maybe his nose? It looked slightly crooked… but, no, he had probably always had a crooked nose and Feliciano was just noticing it now because he hadn't seen that guard for quite a while…

"What the hell is he doing here?" the dark-haired guard asked again, nodding towards Feliciano.

"Don't know, he could be your new sex slave?" the French one answered, playfully poking the taller man's ribs with his elbow. The affected male glared at him.

"What the fuck?"

"He's a fag."

That's how the puzzlement and the sympathy Feliciano had thought to have perceived in the dark-haired guard's eyes, disappeared in a snap.

"P-please… I'm sorry… I'll do anything to atone for having been outside after curfew, I swear!" the poor prisoner begged, starting to sob harder.

"Take off your shirt." the guard with the slightly crooked nose ordered in bad, but understandable Italian, menacingly stepping forward. Everybody else in the room gaped at him with astonishment, especially Feliciano with his terrified, teary eyes. Why would he ask him for something like that? … The Italian had a bad presentiment… a very bad presentiment. But he tried to suppress it. As long as he did was he was told, his chances to be left alive were higher… right? He raised his furiously trembling hands and undid the first button of his red-white striped shirt… then the second one, then the third one. The men watched every one of his movements with what? Awe? Disconcertment? By the time Feliciano had unbuttoned his shirt completely and had let it slide down his narrow shoulders, the Englishman, who had ordered him to do so, was staring at him with his mouth ajar.

The Italian hugged himself, his small body convulsing because of his desperate sobs. He felt vulnerable and ashamed. Thoughts about what he would be forced to do continued to come to his mind, and it became more and more difficult to push them aside. He may have repulsed them. He may have been a _faggot_. But during war, humans were quick to overlook such matters. He had heard of soldiers abusing children… even… even corpses. Without women around and no way to release tension, their hearts filled with sorrow and hate… humans were quick to do this kind of things…

"… Are you really going to make him do that?" the French guard asked, obviously overchallenged with that situation. "To avenge your nose or something…? I still can't believe you got yourself beaten up by a faggot, by the way!"

"Shut up! I didn't expect him to strike out – that's all! He caught me off guard!"

He took a few steps in Feliciano's direction until he was standing almost right in front of him. The poor prisoner miserably looked up at him, scared to death… but also resigned. The Englishman with the slightly crooked nose suddenly reached out, roughly grabbed Feliciano by his hair and yanked him closer. The Italian squeezed his eyes tightly shut and uttered a soft whimper.

"Suck." he was ordered, while the guard undid his belt, the button and the zipper of his pants with his free hand. Feliciano glanced at the visible bulge which was still covered by simple underwear… and thought back to the evening he had done it to Ludwig for the first time. He remembered their conversation. How had he been so naïve to believe that the guards would never want him to do something like that to them? … It had been obvious from the very beginning that they were playing with the thought, since they kept joking about it all the time… They _were_ capable of forcing him to do something like that. And now… now he was about to be used like a worthless piece of meat…

"N-no, please… I don't know how to do this – I've never d-done this before!" Feliciano lied, his speaking almost unintelligible, as he was crying at the top of his lungs.

"What kind of queer are you if you've never sucked a dick?"

The two inactive guards were observing the scenario in front of them with shocked, but also interested expressions on their faces. The one with the dark hair seemed particularly affected.

"St-stop this is weird!" he cried, taking a step back. "If the superiors find out about this, it will have consequences!"

"They won't find out." was the short reply.

"Is this really only about your nose…?"

It was silent for a while. The guard holding Feliciano freed his manhood from the confines of his undergarments and stroked himself a few times. The Italian weakly attempted to get away from the man's strong grip on his hair. His efforts just worsened the abusing of his scalp.

"… No, I actually just feel like being sucked off."

"A mouth is a mouth, right?" agreed the French guard, stepping closer, as well. "He's a faggot, he will like it!" he added, jokingly.

"Goddamn! Will you suck it or not?" the guard shouted, tilting Feliciano's head back by brutally pulling at his hair. He practically slapped his member in his face and Feliciano could smell his musky scent. While that scent had turned him on when it had come from Ludwig, it made him sick and feel like gagging while coming from this man.

"N-no, please…!"

"Leave him alone – this is just causing us trouble! Do you want to be called a fag, as well?" the dark-haired man argued, panicking. The other Englishman groaned loudly and forcefully shoved Feliciano's head away, making the poor prisoner fall back onto the ground with a pained gasp. He adjusted his crotch and trousers and then pulled out a dagger from the holster attached to his belt. He twisted it between his fingers and said:

"We'll just have to do this the other way then, don't we?"

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><p>Ludwig had watched the sun rise. That's how long they had kept him inside that cell. He had sat in a corner, leaning with his back against the wall and had watched the sun rise and Gilbert slowly wake up from his sound sleep.<p>

He had cleansed and supplied the worst of the albino's injuries, but even with the blood (more or less) gone; he still looked frightening battered. The purple marks on his skin contrasted with his paleness, which made them look even darker and more painful. He recalled the way Gilbert had kept wincing while he had gently rubbed his face clean with a moist towel. His bony hands had clenched tightly in fists, his scarlet eyes had narrowed in pain. But he seemed to feel better that morning, by the way he had returned to his typical annoying self.

"Did you get out of the wrong side of the bed or something?" the officer asked him, as Ludwig continued to pace up and down the cell like a lion in a cage.

"Ha ha, your humor is really appropriate right now." Ludwig replied sarcastically. "I've spent the whole night on the floor and didn't get a wink of sleep."

"Well, you could have just told me to make some room, you know. No need to get all pissy over it now."

"… Okay, wait. I think you got hit in the head harder than I thought. I don't care about not having been able to sleep in a bed – or not having been able to sleep at all. I'll help you to remind our situation – especially yours: It's war. This is an enemy concentration camp. Yesterday, you were brought here and they were going to kill you. They are still going to kill you if Kirkland's baby brothers are found to be dead. The possibility that they are dead is much higher than the one that they are still alive. This leads to the conclusion that –"

"That I don't give a fuck about any of that?" Gilbert cut him off. Ludwig blinked a few times, taken aback. He sought the other man's eye contact and the albino weakly smiled at him. The officer shifted a little on the bed, the way he could adjust the pillow which was jammed between the wall and his rear, and then settled back.

"Look, Lud, I'm _alive_ for the moment. I have a plan – the letter. There's nothing else I can do but lean back and watch how things turn out, now. If the kids are dead, then well, sucks to be me. If they aren't, then hurray – I'm outta here and you are, too. What's the point in wallowing in self-pity? Will it make it any better?"

Ludwig came abruptly to a halt. … Gilbert _was _right. Actually, he thought he had never heard something more reasonable come out of the albino's mouth. … But still… being able to think that way in the situation he was in?

"I'll be fine, you know. You don't need to worry about me. I'm positive that the twins are alive."

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><p>After their early morning conversation, Ludwig felt calmer and more hopeful when the guards stepped into their cell to collect the letter and put him back to work. Gilbert was right. There really was no point in bothering oneself to death. If there was a god up there, then the twins were still alive. If they weren't… if they weren't… well, he… preferred not to think about it, right then.<p>

He couldn't wait to see Feliciano at lunch time. He would apologize to him for having made him worry so much, he would tell him everything. Then he would make it up to him in the evening. He would cradle him with kisses and caresses - and just everything he wished for. It would be their special evening. Only a few hours… then he could finally see him…

They assigned him to do one of most exhausting jobs in the camp, that day: earthworks. He hadn't eaten for almost twenty-four hours and neither had he slept, but he literally worked himself into the ground. Not even the guards could find a reason to pick on him. Working hard helped him to alleviate the remaining stress he kept inside himself and by the time he was sweaty, muddy and ready to collapse; he was also strangely dull, as if he was way too tired to actually mind the world around him.

And then, the alarm which signalized that it was lunch time, set off. His heart fluttered in anticipation. Together with the other prisoners, who had been working on that area of the camp, as well, he was transported back to the centre of it by a truck. When he stepped into the dining hall, it didn't matter anymore that he was exhausted and filthy; he cheerfully moved through the queue to the back of the hall and kept his eyes open for Feliciano and Lovino. But he couldn't say that he was particularly delighted about the position he found the two of them in. They were sitting with their backs towards Ludwig, so he couldn't exactly see what they were doing, but the fact that Lovino's arm was enclosed around Feliciano's shoulder and Feliciano had his face hidden in the other's chest, irritated him enough. He knew he didn't have a reason to be jealous of the southern Italian… but Feliciano was _his_! The place beside him was _his_! If somebody there should have been hugging him that way, it was _him_! He walked up to them and scowled even more as he saw that Lovino was petting _his_ little one's hair. This was going too far. He cleared his throat.

The first to notice him was Lovino, who glared up at him and protectively tightened his arms around Feliciano. Ludwig didn't hesitate to reciprocate the glare twice as intense, which caused the southern Italian angered expression to falter and turn into a scared one instead.

"What's going on?" he asked, because Feliciano hadn't still noticed that he was there and he wanted to change that.

When Feliciano pulled back from the embrace and looked up at him, Ludwig's breath got caught in his throat. Half of his face was pasted over with gauze.

"Ludwig…!" the northern Italian cried out, beaming with happiness. But not even the sweetest of smiles could make Ludwig overlook that his uncovered eye was all puffy and bloodshot… as if he had been crying just a moment ago.

The jealousy and irritation disappeared in a fraction of a second and he just pushed Lovino out of the way to gently, but firmly grab Feliciano by his shoulders. He skillfully ignored the "What the fuck, you bastard!" he got from Lovino and bewilderedly asked:

"Feliciano, what happened to your face?"

His heartbeat had quickened considerably and he cupped Feliciano's healthy cheek with one trembling hand. He felt Feliciano's small body tense up under his touches and the injured male lowered his gaze, keeping it on the ground.

"N-nothing. Just a little a-accident during work." the auburn-brunette replied. Ludwig didn't believe him. He let his gaze wander over to Lovino and the southern Italian averted his eyes, but not in his usual arrogant manner. More in a manner which confirmed that there was indeed something foul going on.

"Are you sure?" he pressed on. Feliciano's eye rose to meet Ludwig's worried ones. There was no happiness in it anymore, only sorrow and pain. He forced himself to smile all the same and nodded.

"Y-yes." he answered. "Vee~ I'm glad you're back, Ludwig!" he exclaimed, shamelessly changing topic. He raised his hand and placed it onto the blonde's bigger one, caressing the back of it with his thumb. The German decided to let it slip for the moment, but he would confront Feliciano about it again in the evening, when they were alone. He let go of the auburn-brunette's shoulder and straightened himself. With a glare, he chased away Lovino, who reluctantly stood up of his chair, muttering something about damn Germans and their brutal manners. Holding Feliciano's hand in his, he took a seat in the now free place next to him. There was a lot they needed to talk about.

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><p>After the evening rolling call, they didn't even bother going to dinner. It was the first time they did this. They walked together to the farthest place they had ever been for their secret meetings. Feliciano seemed to be in a good mood, just like he had seemed to be in a good mood in the noon, but Ludwig wouldn't let himself be fooled.<p>

"Vee~ I was so worried! I thought they had taken you away from me another time – like, locked you up inside a cell again or even worse! Lovino has told me not to panic, but I couldn't help it! This morning the nice guard said that you were just being questioned about something and that they were going to release you in no time, so I was really relieved!" Feliciano gabbled on, gesturing wildly with his hands as they reached a part of the camp which had fields of rather tall grass. Ludwig made a sign to step into it and they looked out for a comfortable and safe place, before sitting down.

"I know. I am really sorry, Feliciano. I wish you wouldn't have had to worry so much about me."

"N-no problem. N-no harm d-done, right?" the Italian giggled awkwardly, nervously shifting around on the ground. He pulled his legs up to his body and wrapped his arms around them. Ludwig gazed at him. He had sat down into the grass quite distantly from him, compared to how close he usually would. And his hands were clenching around his knees…

"… Feliciano… are you really alright? I am sincerely concerned about you. Why won't you tell me what happened to your face?"

The brunette anxiously looked around, almost as if he was thinking about which direction would be the best to run away from the other prisoner… but he stayed where he was, gladly. He was silent for a while, nibbling on his under lip, then he finally answered:

"I-I already told you, didn't I? I m-messed up during work. A-a splinter of wood has sprung back and h-has cut the side of my face open."

"For real, Feliciano? Please don't lie to me…"

"F-for real." the Italian assured him.

Ludwig sighed. He guessed Feliciano would have told him the truth by then, if the tale with the splinter of wood had been a lie. But still, he was behaving quite peculiar. The blonde looked down at his lap and then glanced back at the Italian. He cautiously shifted, the way they were sitting closer to each other and then tentatively took Feliciano's hand in his. The other prisoner smiled at him and squeezed his hand. He looked beautiful, even with half of his face covered by plasters… but Ludwig just couldn't shake off the feeling which told him that something very bad had happened while he hadn't been there.

"But was your eye damaged, as well?" he asked, worried.

"N-no, it's just swollen and needs to rest, the doctor has said."

Feliciano finally showed some of his typical affectionate and clingy nature and leaned against Ludwig's side. The German released his hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders instead and pulled him even closer. He didn't know why, but to him, Feliciano looked even smaller and more fragile than usual, that night… He felt the need to protect him from the entire world… to never let go of him. But he was so powerless in that goddamn camp. He wouldn't be able to protect his little one even if he sacrificed his life for him. They were two nothings, kept prisoners inside a giant cage with hundreds of guards holding their guns pointed at them. Even if he brought down the half of it… the other half would still manage to get to them. There just wasn't any way of escape. And yet… he wouldn't back down for anything in the world if they were to hurt his beloved one.

"Feliciano, will you come with me if the twins are found to be still alive?" he asked, whispering in his ear. He tenderly kissed the delicate spot behind of it, buried his nose in his auburn hair and inhaled deeply, intoxicating himself with the Italian's natural sweetish scent.

"I-I don't know… I don't wanna leave Lovino alone. He's very important to me." Feliciano replied. Ludwig felt the same feeling he had had at lunch time making his blood boil again.

"But you said he has that Spaniard back now."

"Vee~ yes! He was so happy when he told me about having seen him again. But also sad… Ludwig, is it very bad to become a Kapo prisoner?"

"… Depends on how you use your favorable position."

"I'm sure Antonio would never hurt anybody of the other prisoners! And maybe he really can keep an eye on Lovino that way."

"Maybe."

Feliciano went to pull back from the embrace, but Ludwig didn't allow him to do so. He held him firmly against himself and let his cheek rest on his head. He felt such a painful need to be even closer to him, but the Italian was strangely cold and distant… and it hurt the blonde. He let his eyes wander over the field of grass around them… he let them rise to the dark sky… he gazed at the stars, at the moon.

"V-ve… Ludwig… you're h-hurting me…" he heard the Italian complain softly against his neck. Sighing, he reluctantly let go of him. Feliciano shifted a little, creating another time a certain distance between them which evoked another painful sting in the blonde's heart.

"Do you want to go back to the barracks? You don't seem to be feeling very well…" Ludwig asked, with a bitter undertone.

"No! I wanna stay with Ludwig… s-sorry if I'm behaving strangely… it's… it's just the pain in my head."

Ludwig sat there, ripping out some strands of grass. He had imagined that evening differently… he had imagined Feliciano to be happy and excited about having him back. But the Italian wouldn't even let himself be embraced… and then the brunette asked something which made his eyes widen in great surprise.

"Ludwig… c-can we make love?"

Nothing made sense. The Italian was switching between happy and sad from moment to moment. He had kept his distance until then and now he was suddenly asking him to make love?

"What's going on, Feliciano?" Ludwig asked, unsettled.

"N-nothing… I just feel a really bad need to be close to you… to be close to somebody I know loves me for the way I am… and this place is really beautiful and makes me feel safe… pl-please…?"

"I don't think this is appropria-" but Feliciano didn't give him the time to continue. He shifted on his knees and cupped his face, before forcefully pushing his mouth against Ludwig's. The blonde, taken off guard, could only gape for a moment and then give in to those warm and soft lips. Feliciano had never been particularly demanding and aggressive while they had been intimate, but right then, he seemed ready to eat him alive. While they kissed, he bit his under lip so hard that the German actually flinched in pain. Ludwig enclosed his hands around his upper arms and gently pushed him back.

"Feliciano, what's wrong…?"

"Ludwig… you don't understand! I need to feel you all over me… and inside me. I need to feel _yours_….! Please!" the Italian pleaded urgently, breathlessly. Ludwig stared at him in shock. He had never heard such a longing in Feliciano's voice. And _what_ he had said… he felt his head glow with embarrassment. He let his lightly trembling hands glide along the brunette's arms and firmly wrapped his fingers around his wrists, removing his palms from his face. What the hell was going on? What the hell had happened to him, for Feliciano to act that way? The Italian tried to free himself from Ludwig's clutches and whimpered softly when he noticed that he couldn't.

"Feliciano… calm down. We have enough time. If we rush things we will just end up hurting each other." and as he said so, he forced Feliciano to lie back into the grass and released his wrists only when the brunette had stopped squirming around. Once he was quiet, Ludwig leaned over him and stroked his hair affectionately. He lay down next to him, pushed an arm underneath his quivering frame and pulled him close. Feliciano's hands held tightly on to the fabric of the German's prisoner uniform.

"It's alright." Ludwig whispered, caressing his hair and the healthy side of his face tenderly. He let his fingertips wander over his temple, his brow… he let them slide down the bridge of his nose, the point of it, and sink into the little dip under it. They contoured his slightly parted lips… and slipped over the little bulge which was his chin… just to glide along his throat. Then he enclosed his hand around his shoulder and rubbed it calmingly with his thumb. He didn't know what had gotten into the Italian or what had happened to him… but he needed to calm down. He noticed with satisfaction that the grip on his shirt had already loosened and that Feliciano's hands were slipping over his sides to cling to his back, instead. He could still feel his chest rise and fall erratically against his own torso… and he could also feel his quickly pounding heart... but everything steadied down, eventually. He craned his neck and brushed his lips gently against Feliciano's, then pulled slightly back to look at him. Their warm breaths mixed while they stared into each other's eyes, and Ludwig could clearly see the distress in Feliciano's uncovered one. Why wouldn't he tell him what had happened? Didn't he trust him anymore…?

He leaned in again and gently pressed his lips against his. Feliciano's arms around his midsection tightened and he kissed back right away. But this time, he was calmer and let Ludwig lead the kiss. It remained a slow, chaste kiss for a while, and even when it deepened, the blonde tried to keep it as tender as possible. Feliciano was buckling against him, obviously longing for more physical contact. Ludwig carefully climbed onto him, taking place between his legs, and the Italian's thighs clenched around his pelvis to keep him close. The blonde's arms moved to rest on the grassy ground on each side of Feliciano's head, his fingers burying themselves in auburn locks, and they continued to kiss deeply in that position for a long time; tasting each other, feeling each other.

It was hot and it was intense; Feliciano had never been so needy. But to Ludwig, it was slightly disconcerting… because it just proved to him that Feliciano was trying to distract him – or maybe the both of them – from something. When the Italian's hands slid down his back and slipped underneath his shirt, Ludwig's rationality faltered, though. He had wanted to be together with the brunette that way for a long time… and now they had the possibility to do it. And he couldn't care less that Feliciano's hands were roaming shamelessly over his scars and some of the still healing scrapes, when it felt so good to have him touching his bare skin again. Strangely, the Italian didn't interrupt their kiss to question him about them. He just caressed them gently with his fingertips and then moved his hands to the front of his body to massage his broad and muscular torso. One of Ludwig's hands left its place in the Italian's hair and started rubbing his thigh instead, slowly sliding down to his hip, were it slipped underneath his shirt, as well. He let his fingers play teasingly with the hem of his pants, but then moved his hand upwards to stroke his flat abdomen. Suddenly, Feliciano tensed up and pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Ludwig asked softly, retrieving his hand.

"D-don't touch my upper body." was the strange answer.

"… Why?"

"B-because…!"

"Feliciano…"

Going against what he had just been told, Ludwig's hands started to work on unbuttoning his shirt. Feliciano protested and tried to push his hands away, but the German didn't stop. After the third button, he could see the beginning of a bandaged chest, and it made his heartbeat quicken in worry and fear. The brunette was panicking, squirming in his arms to get away from him, but Ludwig couldn't help himself. He almost ripped the rest of his shirt open and stared at the revealed body. Feliciano's gauze-covered chest was furiously rising and falling. And when Ludwig's eyes questioningly sought for eye contact, he noticed alarmed that the Italian was crying and hiding his face behind his upper arm.

"Feliciano… what the hell has happened to you? Why won't you tell me?"

"J-just spl-splinters… from the accident…" the smaller prisoner sobbed. That sight – Feliciano, quivering and sobbing under him, with half of his face and upper body covered by plasters and bandages, was more than Ludwig could take and he pulled back, letting himself fall unceremoniously on his behind. He placed one of his elbows onto his knee and rubbed his brow and eyes with the other hand.

"How the hell am I supposed to believe you?" he reproved him, feeling tears welling up in his own eyes. It hurt to see Feliciano like that. And it hurt to have him lying to him. Didn't he trust him anymore? Why didn't he just tell him the truth? Didn't he know that Ludwig would do anything to protect him? He swallowed them back, bitterly.

"L-Ludwig…please… don't stop because of that…" the brunette begged, coming into a sitting position, as well, and then placed a hand onto Ludwig's underarm. "Please… I need you…"

He crawled closer, wrapped his arms around Ludwig's neck and kissed desperately his cheek and jaw. The German weakly tried to remove the thin limbs from around himself, but when Feliciano didn't let go of him, he didn't have the heart to push him away.

"Ludwig…" the Italian whimpered. Ludwig let out a shaky breath and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him onto his lap. Feliciano didn't hesitate to make himself comfortable there, rocking their slightly died down erections together. He hastily undid all the buttons of Ludwig's shirt and then started spreading hot, desperate kisses all over his neck, clavicles and shoulders, occasionally nibbling and sucking here and there. And it was awkward, because he was partially still crying…

"Ludwig… please!"

And then, something in Ludwig snapped and he didn't let himself be asked for it another time. He pulled Feliciano's shirt off his frame and then shifted into a kneeling position, before pushing the Italian back into the grass. He removed the smaller male's pants, underwear, socks and shoes all at once and wrapped his fingers around his manhood, starting to pump it slowly. Feliciano grasped some grass strands and harshly pulled at them, his tear-streaked face not matching the moans he was letting out.

"Aah… ahh…!"

"I really... don't… understand you." Ludwig admitted in between pants, as he worked to get his own member out of his pants. He shrugged his shirt off his shoulders and pulled Feliciano's thighs over his owns, before bending over him to rub their crotches together. One hand was used to support himself, while the other soothingly massaged Feliciano's leg and hip. "This is… wrong… in so many ways."

Feliciano ignored his rambling and just clung to his back, buckling desperately against him to create even more friction between them. The German used his distraction and let a hand gently wander over the bandages wrapped around his chest, then hooked up his fingers underneath them. But before he could rip them off his body, his hand was firmly grabbed and brought up the Italian's mouth.

"No, Ludwig…!" Feliciano scolded him breathlessly and then grazed the blonde's knuckles with his lips, before letting his tongue slide enticingly along the underside of them. He nibbled at the tip of his index and middle finger and then let them slip into his hot mouth, lightly sucking them and coaxing them with his saliva. Ludwig could only stare in shock, a wave of arousal washing over him despite the awkwardness and wrongness of the whole situation. His erection twitched lightly as Feliciano continued to suck his fingers, his small hand rubbing their neglected members against each other.

Then, suddenly, Ludwig's fingers were pulled out of that hot mouth, leaving behind a thread of saliva which ripped midway and fell to adorn Feliciano's chin instead. The Italian pushed him slightly back and turned around, resting on all fours. He wiped his chin off, then looked over his shoulder with one teary, half-lidded eye. And the German knew what he wanted… He positioned himself behind his rear and gently grabbed a buttock, using his thumb to pull it back and gain access to his entrance, rubbing it with his slicked fingers. Feliciano's arms shook lightly and he moaned complainingly, making it clear that he was getting impatient.

"Nnngh… do it already…" he whimpered. Ludwig pushed his index finger's tip in and let his middle finger join in, as well, as soon as the tight ring had swallowed the half of the firstly inserted one. He caressed the Italian's lower back, while his fingers massaged his prostrate, making him quiver and moan out in pleasure. He took his time, preparing Feliciano well. He leaned over him, supporting himself on the ground and gently kissed his shoulder and neck. The Italian turned his head and their lips joined in a wet, sloppy kiss. Ludwig pulled his fingers out of the hot hole and grabbed his member instead, rubbing the leaking head of it teasingly against the brunette's relaxed muscle ring. He felt Feliciano eagerly push back, and allowed him to slip slowly onto him.

"Nnnhh.. aaah…!" the Italian moaned into his mouth and reached back to grasp Ludwig's hair, kissing him even needier. The blonde pushed further in, carefully, until he was completely sheathed, and by that time, Feliciano's arm and legs were trembling to the point that the German feared he would collapse. He tentatively thrust into him, making him cry out in pleasure and let a hand roam over his bandaged upper body… the Italian seemed to be too distracted to care. So he continued to rock their hot, sweaty bodies together… and their mouths eventually separated, because they were panting way too hard to keep kissing without passing out from lack of oxygen… and Feliciano's cries were becoming louder and louder… and Ludwig's thrusts were becoming faster and faster.

"Aaahhh-hhh! L-Ludwig…! Mmhh.. Ah… aaah!"

And when Feliciano's body tightened around him, he couldn't help but spill himself inside him, gasping for air. Feliciano's limbs gave out on him; he slumped into the grass and turned around to rest on his back, panting loudly. Ludwig let himself fall next to him and rode out the aftershocks of his own orgasm, struggling to catch his breath. They lay there, with closed eyes and frantically rising and falling chests for a short time. Ludwig was about to wrap an arm around him, when he remembered something. He carefully pushed himself off the ground, came into a sitting position and looked down at his lover. He was still recovering from their love-making session and obviously hadn't even noticed that the blonde had sat up. Should he really do it? Yes. He had to. He had to know.

It was mean, but Ludwig made use of the other prisoner's momentarily weakness: he roughly grabbed the bandages and tore them off his chest. A shocked expression formed on both their faces, and Feliciano shrieked and tried to cover himself up with his arms. But it was too late. The German had already seen it. Three scarlet letters, carved deeply inside his flesh:_ FAG_.

And this was the moment Ludwig realized there actually _were_ some good reasons to kill.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC…<strong>

**The next chapter will explain more. Sorry about that. Let me know what you think about it… I had really trouble writing this and I'm still not convinced. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello readers!**

**Wow… err… I guess you're gonna stab me if I try to apologize for how long I've made you wait...? I know. I'm so sorry! I've been writing a book for school and it has taken up sooo much of my friggin time! And right now I'm so sick of writing in general… Anyway, I had written this chapter a long time ago, but never managed to finish it the way I wanted. So I'm uploading it "unfinished". I couldn't bear making you wait any longer! I want to thank so much everybody who has reviewed, faved and subscribed so far. Thank you so much! And thanks to everybody who is still reading this - after all the time I've made you wait. It means very much to me. **

**There's something I need to say about the last chapter. I noticed some of you were confused about what happened to Feliciano. Feliciano wasn't raped as in intercourse. But you'll see more about that in this chapter.**

**Have a nice lecture!**

* * *

><p>"How did he react?" Lovino asked, shifting closer to Feliciano, and wiped the tears off his heart-breaking sad face. The smaller Italian leaned in to the caring touches and sniffled quietly. He kept his gaze lowered on Lovino's chest and unconsciously rubbed his own. It hurt. It hurt to touch it. He could feel that the cuts were swollen even through the red-white striped shirt, but he didn't dare asking the barrack supervisor if he could be escorted to the infirmary. He would ask <em>Francis<em> tomorrow. Francis… Francis was a good man. Francis would be there for him tomorrow... even if he was a little afraid of actually facing him.

"Badly…" he replied, his voice nothing but a croaky whisper. Lovino waited a few seconds, obviously thinking that Feliciano would add an explication to his statement. But that explication didn't come. Not even after a whole minute had passed. Feliciano wanted to talk… to tell him everything. But his throat felt constricted. He could barely breathe as he tried to suppress his wish for crying. And every time he swallowed, the moisture would struggle down his insides and leave them burning even worse than before.

"Feli, goddammit, what happened?" Lovino insisted, gently grabbing the northern Italian's chin and tilting his head back. They lay in silence for a while, just looking into each other's eyes. Lovino's were worried, scared – but also a little angry as he wondered what the hell that stupid German had done to his friend, to make him return to the barrack crying hysterically with half of his clothing still undone, his marred chest and face exposed and vulnerable for all the damned gawkers in their dormitory. Of course, they gaped in shock… sympathy. But Feliciano didn't deserve to be gaped at like some kind of freak, after everything that had happened to him.

"He…" the auburn-brunette finally started. "He was really taken aback, at first."

"And then?"

"N-nothing. H-he just stood there, staring down at me. It made me feel so… s-so strange. I was really ashamed…"

"Why the hell would you feel ashamed!"

"I-I don't know!" Feliciano sobbed. He stopped rubbing his injured chest and frantically wrapped his arms around Lovino's neck instead. The other prisoner just enclosed his own arms around the northern Italian's trembling frame and held him close. He caressed his back soothingly and craned his neck to look at his face, but Feliciano was keeping it strictly hidden in the fabric of his red-white striped shirt.

"I feel so… so ugly! It's like I c-can never show myself again! I'm marked, I'm scarred for the rest of my life! … Do you really think Ludwig would wanna fuck somebody with a _FAG _on his chest?"

Lovino winced at the vulgarism. He was the first to curse and express himself rather vulgarly all the time… but hearing something like that come out of Feliciano's mouth was just… wrong. And it emphasized the severity of the situation. He stayed quiet for a long time, just nervously nibbling on his under lip, and then answered:

"Calm down… That German idiot loves you like a maniac, didn't you see the way he glared at me this noon when he saw us together? He won't stop loving you just because of… _that_." he made a little pause there, waiting for a reaction which didn't come, and then added "What happened afterwards?"

"He… h-he went crazy! He yelled at me that I should have told him… and th-then he just picked up his things a-and wanted t-to leave… I tried to stop him, of course, and he shoved me off." The auburn-brunette started crying even harder, pushing his face into Lovino's chest to muffle the hysteric sobs. "C-can you i-imagine, Lovi? H-he j-just shoved me off!"

_What a fucking bastard! _"He was worried out of his mind, what did you expect? Did you expect him to throw flowers at you and compliment you for your new accessory? Of course he was angry! I was angry, too, when I heard what those sons of bitches have done to you!"

"H-he said he was going to kill them all… I was so scared… I still am! L-Lovi, what if he d-does something s-stupid? He would get himself into serious tr-trouble! I'm so scared!"

"… What happened after he shoved you off?" Lovino changed topic, unsure of what to answer since he didn't know how to estimate the crazy German. Even if he didn't doubt that he _would_ kill for Feliciano…

"… He was sorry… he calmed down and apologized. But he didn't e-even dare touching me… he hugged me only after having wrapped my shirt around me… and demanded to know what they had done to my face. A-and when I didn't tell him he just peeled the gauze off himself and then looked about to g-go crazy again. I asked him not to be angry… to stay with me because I needed him… but when I tried to kiss him he pulled away…" the auburn-brunette's hands clenched around the collar of the other Italian's shirt. "I-I don't understand… is h-he angry at me? … D-disgusted with m-me?"

Lovino hated to back up the German, but he was doing this only – and _only_ for Feliciano's sake. He drew back from the embrace, raised his hand to the other prisoner's face and gently grazed the stitches sewn into his eyebrow and temple to keep a small but slightly gaping wound closed. He let them carefully run over the red-purple bruise which had crawled downwards to adorn the underside of his eye and cheekbone.

"Would you be able to kiss somebody, who looks like he's gonna collapse, if the wind blows a little bit stronger? Feliciano, I don't know if you're aware of it, but it _hurts_ to see people you love suffer. It hurts so much that you don't wanna make it worse, and sometimes, trying to protect people, you do stupid things. And I believe that German idiot is the perfect example for what I just said."

Feliciano continued to cry, but eventually, his sobs became quieter and less frequent, until he was only sniffling and trying to rub his face dry without causing too much pain in the tender area around his left temple.

"M-maybe you're right…"

"Of course I'm right! Now, sleep. Tomorrow we'll tell him _why_ they attacked you." The southern Italian let go of the smaller one and grabbed his sheet, pulling it over him. He then did the same to himself and adjusted for the night.

"W-we can't possibly tell him! He would feel like this is his entire fault!" Feliciano argued horrified.

"That's the general idea. If he feels guilty about it, he won't do something stupid because he'll be afraid it might lead to the same outcome."

"I-I guess…"

It was silent for a long while. Feliciano assumed that Lovino had fallen asleep. He was glad the other Italian was there for him because with Ludwig out of his mind, he didn't know to whom to go. He really hoped the German had calmed down by tomorrow. He needed Ludwig's love much more than any kind of foolish and pointless protection...

He had tried so hard to keep the other prisoner from finding out. It had been a mistake to ask him if they could make love – he should have expected the blonde to find out that the injuries hadn't been caused by an accident. But after everything that had happened, he had just wanted to feel loved and wanted for the way he was... for the _faggot_ he was. He had needed to have all the horrible traces off himself… the horrible, horrible traces which would never fade away, for the rest of his life. He had been a fool, a desperate, delusional fool to believe he could erase what had happened. He was marked, scarred forever. But not only on his chest. In his whole existence.

"Feli…?" a whisper interrupted his dark thoughts. A warm hand enclosed around his own sweaty and cold one. "Feli, I'm sorry about what happened."

* * *

><p>"<em>Will you suck me off now?"<em>

"_Yes – yes! I will do i-it for you a-all! Please don't hurt m-me anymore – PLEASE!"_

_A low, amused chuckle. Rough fingers running through his hair, nails scraping his sensitive scalp. A tug, forcing him to tilt his head back. Feliciano could hear his own raspy pants as he struggled to keep breathing. He could feel his tears, tickling down his temples, his jaw, even his neck. He hadn't known his body had so much water to shed. And so much blood… blood was flowing down his chest, he could feel it get absorbed by the elastic waistband of his pants. His chest was throbbing. The carvings throbbed as his heart continued to beat inside his ribcage, reminding him of how easy it would be to die. If the blade wouldn't have been dragged across his skin… and would have instead been shoved deep into his flesh. Vulnerable. Human beings are so vulnerable, so breakable. Their life… so easy to destroy. To take away._

"_We got him begging to go down on us. I call this achievement. I bet you wish your girlfriend back home would do so, Jim."_

"_He has gone."_

"_What?"_

"_He is not here anymore."_

"_What a wimp."_

_He didn't raise his eyes. He kept looking straightforward. He kept staring at that metallic belt buckle which was loosely hanging down. _He_ had obviously known _he_ wouldn't have to go without a quick blowjob that night. Well, Feliciano preferred giving a blowjob against his will to being slaughtered like a pig. He was going to give him that and so much more if it was going to keep him from hurting him more. _

_A clinking noise as _he_ undid his belt completely. Feliciano spaced out. He didn't feel the warm tears and the warm blood on his skin anymore. He didn't feel his hurting joints anymore, neither did he feel the pain in his head and in his chest. Because he was numb. His body was only a shell which gave him the possibility to exist. The truth is; his body had no meaning at all... He wanted it to have no meaning at all… _

"_Yes… good boy."_

_Feliciano wasn't going to allow himself to feel those hands running through his hair, holding his head in place as his throat began to burn. He reflexively gagged. His arms hung limply at his sides while he let himself be used like a doll._

"_More. Suck more."_

_No… he didn't want this. He didn't want any of this…. __No! … No! No! No! No!_

Waking up from a nightmare is always a big release. Except for when the nightmare isn't just a nightmare. Feliciano awoke with a start, pulse racing, breathing faltering. He clasped the sheet like a madman and reminded himself that everything was alright, that what had happened belonged to the past and wouldn't happen again. He tried to convince himself that he was a very lucky person. He was still alive after all. He was alive and relatively fine. How many people were dying in this war? How many? He was still alive. He was a lucky person.

He didn't complain when the barrack supervisor yelled at them to get their lazy asses out of bed. Actually, he had never been that quick to comply.

Nothing had changed. The morning proceeded as usual. He washed himself. He _tried_ to have breakfast. He cleansed his bunk and washed his belongings. He went outside for the morning roll call. Everything had remained the same. Only the burning in his chest and the throbbing in his head were slightly out of the norm, but they would go away in a few days.

He worked. It wasn't a particularly beautiful day; the sky was covered by clouds, making it difficult for the sun rays to reach earth. But at least it wasn't cold. He collected the herbs he didn't even know the name of, even though he had been planting and cultivating them for months… and months. Now that he thought about it, he didn't even know for how long he had been staying there anymore. Maybe… maybe a year. Maybe a little less. Maybe a little more. He had seen the snow fall, had suffered as the sharp coldness had nagged at his bones while he had continued to work outside. He had seen the flowers and trees bloom, he had heard the birds chirp in happiness, almost ironically as he compared it to everything which had been surrounding him. He had watched the hard work they all put so much of their strength into burn under the sun. And now, now the colorful leaves were starting to fall and cover the ground, as the trees prepared for a long season of sleep…

Yes, it had been almost a year. A year wasn't much compared to the amount of time some of the prisoners had spent in that concentration camp. But it wasn't little either. It was silly how much he had gotten used to living as a slave of war. He couldn't almost remember what it felt like to be _free_. Well, of course. Ludwig was a source of _freedom_. When he was together with Ludwig, he felt _free_. Care_free_. And when he was with Ludwig, he felt like he could bear with this whole thing for a while longer.

That's why he needed Ludwig to be there for him. The way they could be care_free_ for some more time, until they were denied even _that_ kind of freedom.

Life isn't easy. You live to struggle through the days, to struggle through the weeks, the months, the years. Your whole existence is a struggle. But struggling side by side with somebody you love makes life so much more worth living. And Feliciano wanted to keep this in mind, before he lost the last bit of will to survive life.

"Ehi…" a soft, gentle voice brought him back to reality. Feelings of safeness and shame washed over him, making it difficult for Feliciano to decide if he was happy about the visit or not. He kept his gaze lowered, fixing it on his dirt-covered hands and the herbs between his fingers. And then he replied:

"Hey."

Silence. Francis probably felt uneasy himself. He stood there for a long time, doing nothing at all. The brunette glanced up at him and noticed that he was not even looking at him. He was looking at his feet.

"How are you?" he asked. And even though this question is one of the most abused in the whole world, Feliciano knew he meant it.

"I'm okay."

Another while of silence. The Italian weakly pushed himself off the ground and came into a standing position. He wiped away the dirt from his prisoner uniform and then enclosed his small, roughened up hands around the hem of his shirt. It was strange to stand in front of someone, who knew _everything_. It was upsetting and reassuring at the same time. Ludwig and Lovino knew about the carvings in his chest, as well, even if the latter a little more than the former. But Francis knew _everything_.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could have been there to stop them. I wish Jim would have called for help sooner."

"I'm okay." Feliciano repeated, attempting at a little smile.

"But -"

"The pain fades away. So do the scars." there he faked a giggle. "Well, at least a little."

Francis looked about to say something else, but he clenched his jaw, nodding lightly. He didn't return the smile. The brunette gazed at this man – a man wearing one infamous uniform, speaking one infamous language which evoked nothing but fear and hate among his peers. He could see so much sadness in his eyes, so much regret and sympathy.

"I-it would be very nice i-if I could go to the doctor though. W-will you accompany me to the doctor, Francis?"

"Gladly, mon petit."

Maybe someday they would all be able to live together, without being forced to fear and hate each other. Without being forced to hurt… and kill each other. Because in the end, what was the difference between the two of them? The colors they wore? The colors of their flag? Or was it truly the language, perhaps the way they pronounced the "r"?

This war was silly. This war needed to end... But Feliciano knew, his own personal war wasn't going to end even after everything was over.

* * *

><p>Anger. It had started with his breathing becoming heavier and slightly raspy, then, a wave of heat, washing over him. He had been able to feel his heartbeat in his throat as he had tried to keep his feelings inside. Because he had known – it was the kind of anger you can't stop once you let it take over your body.<p>

Devastation. He didn't doubt he could have killed somebody in that moment. His arms had been twitching, yearning to make use of those muscles. He wouldn't have hesitated to tear the bastard, who had done this to his little one, in pieces, just like an animal. Because he _was_ an animal. He had yearned for blood. He had yearned for screams of pain. He had yearned for a self-proclaimed justice, for revenge, for death. He had wanted to fix something broken, by destroying something else. It made no sense at all, and yet, how many people in this world reasoned that way?

And in the end he had ended up hurting the person he had wanted to protect all along himself. Because he could tell by the look in Feliciano's eyes that the way he had behaved towards him had hurt him more than the carvings on his chest. Those damned three letters… as red as blood. Hadn't it hurt while they had made love? Hadn't he been in pain all the time? His beautiful creamy skin… marred, forever. His heart-warming smiles… marred, forever. He smiled like a little porcelain doll; his smiles were forced, expressionless, cold. His eyes while he smiled had been empty, dark. Where had that playful glimmer gone? Where?

Why had Ludwig not been able to understand sooner. Why had he not been able to be there for him the moment Feliciano needed him the most. What was the point to keep loving him if he could not even protect him? Feliciano deserved somebody, who could protect him. If not from the war, if not from the guards… then at least from sorrow… from pain. He should have thought about this before setting his mind on trivial matters. The guards… they were going to pay. But he had enough time to make them pay. Wasn't it much more important to stay by Feliciano's side until he was stable enough to be left on his own? Wasn't it?

He had done everything wrong.

Ludwig gasped softly as sharp pain shot through his hand. He let the knife and the small block of wood he had been holding fall and grasped his wrist instead. He had been careless while carving a small horse and had cut himself. The cut extended over the soft bulge of his thumb on his palm and the left inside of his pale wrist. It was deep… the blood was running down his underarm and had already started dripping onto the floor. The German stared at the scarlet liquid and felt like laughing. He did so. He laughed – a laugh as bitter as only a laugh caused by blank despair could be. Carving. Wasn't it ironic? Wasn't it ironic that he was _carving_ after what he had seen yesterday? Was this a coincidence? Was this mockery, a punition?

After some minutes, he could feel his pulse in his hand. He couldn't see the humor in this anymore, so he stopped laughing. The blood had painted his usually white skin red. His red-white striped pants were not striped anymore – they were spotted. Even the dirt-covered floor was starting to be red. He realized that maybe, only maybe, he had damaged his arteries. And he also realized… that he actually didn't give a fuck.

Numb, he bent down and picked up the unfinished small figure off the puddle of blood. Yes. Yes, this is how it was supposed to look like. This little horse needed to be covered in blood. The children, who were going to play with this, needed to know how those were fabricated. The parents, who bought this, needed to know what they were buying for their children.

They all needed to know that those little wooden toys were fabricated with the blood of concentration camp prisoners.

* * *

><p><strong>TBC…<strong>

**Yeah, I know… stupid ending. But as I already said; this chapter was rotting in a corner of my laptop for so long that I decided to upload it "unfinished" rather than to upload nothing at all. I sincerely don't know when I'll continue writing. Sorry guys! **

**Let me know what you think about how things turned out! **


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